


Blindsided

by Redclaire999



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bathtubs, Blood and Injury, F/M, Injury, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23683012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redclaire999/pseuds/Redclaire999
Summary: Ellie finds the link that leads to the breakthrough in the case but no one anticipated the consequences of her discovery.
Relationships: Ellie Bishop & Nick Torres, Ellie Bishop/Nick Torres
Comments: 89
Kudos: 184





	1. Blinkered

**Author's Note:**

> OMG, I've finally talked myself into posting something I've written!! Absolute first timer here!! Scribbling away in notebooks for years but I've never let anyone read anything...eeeek! Please feel free to comment, thanks!  
> More chapters to come x

Ellie sat on the floor behind her desk, files, photos, pages and her laptop scattered around her as she let out a frustrated growl that drew Nick’s attention to her. Although they were still a little frosty with each other she knew he was watching her, she had caught his eyes flicking away from her several times over that last week when she happened to be lost in thought and may have glanced at him.

That annoyed her too; _I mean if I’m like a_ sister _to him what’s with the cold shoulder_?

Her annoyance with their lack of progress on the case was really riling her up. More irritating was that her brain was so exasperated with Nick’s brushing her off, she just couldn’t find the connection to the information before her. Years of logical, focused, fact-based intel storage in her head seemed to be sluggishly resisting her efforts to link this element of the case with something, _something_ that tugged on the farthest reaches of her memory. Again, she spoke to herself firmly. _Get a grip Ellie, think!_

‘Earth to Ellie’ a hand waved in front of her eyes.

“Er, what, oh McGee, what’s up?’ she fumbled her earbuds out of her ears.

‘Lunch, do you want to come, or should we get you some take out?’

Knowing her hair was probably wild with random bits poking out in all directions from her untidy bun as she, once again, scrunched her fingers through clumps in pure vexation she flicked a quick look at Nick, who stood beside Tim, ready to head out. He was deliberately avoiding her gaze, suddenly very interested in her potted fern on her desk. Although starving she wasn’t of a mind to endure another awkward hour as poor Tim tried to keep up conversation.

‘Umm, no I’m fine thanks, I’m not hungry’, she fibbed.

That drew a surprised look from McGee and an appraising inspection from Nick. She felt his eyes roam over her taking in her pale tired face, her unruly hair even as she diverted her eyes nervously.

Nick snorted a sceptical huff and she glared back. McGee rolled his eyes glancing between the two of them.

‘Ok then, see you in a bit’ he shrugged and walked towards the lift. Nick hesitated a little as she continued her hard stare up at him. She noticed him swallow, nod dejectedly and then avert his tense eyes, his unspoken words going with him as he followed in Tim’s footsteps.

Wow, she was not liking this sister status at all!

Losing herself in her work again, the faces of the two dead Navy communications officers seared into her brain, she again racked her memory for that _something_. The files reviewed what each of the officers were working on in the last days and hours before their murders, garrotted with wire, a particularly gruesome way to die she thought. Both were low level translators tasked with transcribing declassified comms, mostly between operatives in the field and their handlers. She had now listened to hours of original recordings and read thousands of pages and reports of surveillance check in calls and of inane chatter including agents bitching about their boss, a parking fine when on duty, someone having an affair, even lots of nanna’s recipes for god’s sake, all translated from Russian. Nothing particularly sensitive or incriminating but the identity of the arms dealing mole, their killer, was in that mix… and something tugged on a memory string connecting her to this murderer. She growled in frustration again

‘Whoa Bishop, feeding time at the zoo huh?’ Nick smirked and placed a take-out bag on her desk and theatrically paced three steps back with his hands up.

His talking to her directly surprised her after days of near radio silence and taken aback she flustered out ‘I’m fine, I’m really not hungry’ but with a glance noticed his small smile failing and disappointment flashing across his face.

_It’s a peace offering, you silly mare, he’s trying to fix this, whatever_ this _is._

She took a breath and caught his eye just as he was about to turn away.

‘Ah whatever it is it smells amazing, thank you’ she dazzled him with a smile hoping to make it up to him for rejecting his olive branch.

Nick was definitely caught off guard by her rapid change in demeanour. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand whilst tentatively pointing at the white paper bag he had left her. ‘Erm… I got you that potato dish you like with the meatball things, from Kravchenko’s …’

Ellie’s mouth started opening and closing like a goldfish eyes widening in shock and awe as a light bulb finally illuminated in her brain.

‘Kartoplia and sichenyky Nick, kartoplia and _fricken_ sichenyky!! Nick I could kiss you!!!’ she exclaimed, her hands waving wilding in the air.

‘Wait _what_??’ he shook his head and blinked in astonishment, a blush rising on his jawline.

Ellie disappeared under her desk; scarlet faced for what she had just blurted out and began riffling through transcripts, muttering to herself in Russian, with lots of expletives. When her head finally surfaced several minutes later McGee and Gibbs were standing alongside a stunned looking Nick.

‘What you got Bishop?’ chimed Gibbs, ‘Torres, snap out of it! And snap her out of it while you’re at it!’ with an impatient nod towards the still babbling agent.

‘Yes sir’ giving himself a quick headshake. ‘B, what have you got?’ he said in a milder tone than Gibbs, tentatively touching her arm. ‘In English Bishop, please, my Russian is a little non-existent’ he reminded her with a smile as she babbled on incomprehensively.

‘Right, yep, ok so’ she took a long calming breath and started again in a quietened tone. ‘I’ve been ripping my brain to shreds because something, _something_ kept yanking a memory that linked to this case. I’ve finally figured it out thanks to Nick here’ she glanced up as his amazed face with a quick smile. ‘Ok so I’ll have to do some digging, and I know I should remember this, but it’s not like I write this stuff down, but then again it’s not like I’ve been on _that_ many dates that I can’t remember the details…

‘Bishop!’ Three shouty voices at once broke into her stream of thought rant.

‘The facts Bishop, just the facts,’ Gibbs again grounding her rapidly flying thoughts.

She took a big breath. ‘After Jake, my girlfriends set me up on a Navy Tinder type app, ‘Fleet Date’, figuring that anyone on there would at least understand the job obligations and in the first few weeks I went on a lot of dates’ she flashed a quick look at Nick who eyes tightened a fraction. ‘Anyhow, yeah, _a lot_ of dates’ she couldn’t look at his face again but out of the corner of her eye, she noticed his fist, ostensibly hanging loosely along his thigh, clenching and unclenching.

‘Fascinating Bishop but why are you telling us this?’ remarked Torres icily. Ellie's face fell as Nick locked his eyes on hers.

‘Lots of dates, all lunches, coffees..’ she tried to stress all daytime meetings, not evening, not dinner or dancing or being walked home… _why am I embarrassed about my old dates in front of Nick…cos you want to date him, just him, idiot!_ She cleared her throat nervously.

‘Anyhow, I remember going for lunch with a guy, he said he was just back from classified Naval active duty, I got the impression Special Forces maybe’ she added uncertainly, ‘he was a bit evasive and I wasn’t that into him anyway, so I didn’t ask’. She shook her head briskly, clearing the image of his arrogant smirk as he dropped his hand on her thigh on a _first meeting!_ Moving swiftly on she continued ‘He pronounced his order of goulash, _guliash,_ it must have stuck with me’ _._

The other members of her team looked blankly at her, oblivious to her meticulous stressing of linguistic variation.

_‘_ I’ve been listening to the recordings, our ‘Russian’ asset is discussing a recipe for _guliash_ and I _know_ it’s him, his voice kept nagging at me. He’s the mole and he killed these two servicemen because they were trained to hear translation errors and slip-ups. Nick reminded me when he got my food, Kravchenko’s are Ukrainian. Guliash identifies him as Ukrainian, not a Russian as we believed. Plus nanna’s recipes, look at them,’ she explained clicking through the transcripts on the plasma screen, ‘the measures are mixed imperial and metric, and waay off, a cup of this, 750 grams of that, then ounces and back to kilos? I think its code for the arms shipments and payments. I’ve checked the transcript and the recordings; it’s not an error and it tallies with the movement of money McGee has tracked’.

Collectively the team nodded, trusting her analysis and conclusion. She took a deep breath, swelling just a little with pride in her abilities.

‘Only you could figure out an international military hardware smuggling felony because of _food_ Bishop’ laughed Nick with an appreciative raise of his eyebrows. She felt herself blush.

‘Excellent, so who is this guy, what’s his name Bishop?’ asked McGee, rushing to his desk, fingers poised over his keyboard to do a digital search.

‘Joe’ she said with certainty, ‘but … I can’t remember his surname, a lot of dates, remember?’ Ellie felt a warm flush coursing up her neck. ‘I would know him if I saw him though’ she added hopefully.

‘Joe, who works for the Navy, yeah sure we can find that’ Nick added sarcastically somewhat under his breath, but Ellie squirmed with mortification, his earlier friendly comment relegated to history.

McGee ignored him and tried to pin down Ellie’s thoughts. ‘Describe him Ellie, any distinguishing features, tattoos, what did he drive? Let’s narrow it down until your brain takes his name out of storage.’

‘No visible tattoos, tall- like six-foot-two maybe, mid-thirties, blonde, very blue eyes, well built- you know like muscular big, good looking…’

‘You remember a lot for someone who was ‘not that into him’ Bishop’ snarked Nick, his hands thrust into the pockets of his dark jeans.

Ellie flushed some more but continued answering McGee. ‘I didn’t see what he drove cos I only met him once for lunch. I deleted my profile ages ago but I could probably search the app…’

Gibbs took a long slug of his coffee then barked out his orders. ‘Bishop, you can draw him, right? Do it. McGee, search her Tinder Fleet blind date thing. Nick walk it off- head down to Kasie and have her home in on those recordings that mention food and correlate them to what we know’. Gibbs disappeared towards Vance’s office.

Ellie felt flustered, embarrassed and reached down to start gathering up the files and papers sprawled over the floor.

‘I’ll do it’, muttered Nick suddenly very close, kneeling down beside her and already stacking pages neatly, his way of maybe apologising for the snide comments. ‘Eat, that brain of yours needs food to function’ he added with a sincere but tight smile.

Grateful, she grabbed her take-out bag ready to briskly chow down in the staff room before diving back into her tasks.

‘Hey Bishop’ Nick called out as she left the squad room, ‘rain check on that kiss’ he smirked at her in his annoying sexy voice

A _h, so we’re back to flirty flippancy_ she mused.

‘Kinda weird wanting to kiss a _sister_ huh, Nick?’, she brazenly called back over her shoulder, immediately kicking herself that she had even drawn attention to his perplexing comment of the last week at all. She flashed a quick, surreptitious glance at his face to see his eyes widen and his mouth form an expressive yet silent ‘wow’ as he piled the paperwork on her desk. A rumble in her stomach moved her thoughts to the pressing matter of lunch rather than figuring out what _that_ reaction meant but she had no doubt it would be food for thought at some point in her day.

Later that night Ellie was down in the lab having spent hours analysing linguistic anomalies from the recordings and pulling up new audio files linked to any agent or asset called ‘Joe’. Kasie had then tried to match Ellie’s description with current personnel records. The hit list was… _long_. Exhausted, Kasie had just headed home and so she was left in peace to work some more on her sketch of the suspect. Her initial drawing, according to _Nick_ , was the representation of an Arnie Schwarzenegger action figure, and he’d accused her of ‘overdosing on the man-muscle movies’ whilst he noticeably flexed out his own attributes in his as usual tight top. Smothering a smile, she had to admit to herself that, in fairness, Nick was on the money; Joe did have that package of standard-issue ‘good looking’ chiselled features, beefed-up bulging biceps and über-masculine physique most ladies would probably fantasise about. _But_ …he hadn’t got those captivating, sultry, dark brown eyes or that smart-mouthed, mischievous smile that she found herself watching, daydreaming, fixating and puzzling over most days _and nights._

_Enough!_ She scolded herself as she schooled her face, already expecting Nick to arrive at the lab to walk her out to her car any minute as arranged earlier.

She heard the screen door opening as she was just putting the finishing touches to her image, ready to upload it to Kasie’s scanner. ‘Two seconds Nick!’ she called without turning around.

Those two seconds changed everything. A burly arm reached around from behind her crushing her throat, cutting off her air and she felt the cold steel of a handgun being pressed painfully into her ribs. Shock made her freeze as instinctively, she knew this wasn’t Nick goofing around.

The looming body that pressed firmly against her dwarfed her and panic started to set in as she gasped for breath, using her nails in an attempt to scratch away his iron grip. A voice from her past but one very familiar after listening to it for hours on the audio files roughly demanded ‘has anyone seen this?’ forcing her head down viciously towards her sketchpad. She struggled to shake her head; words not possible as dizziness swept over her. ‘Good. Sorry it has to be like this Ellie, I liked you’ he added regretfully, ‘but I can’t afford for a pretty thing like you to blow up my very lucrative business operations’.

It was now or never; he was going to kill her. She drew on every fibre of her being and every minute of her training and managed to break out of his throat-hold by sharply elbowing him in the nuts and stamping on his instep with the heel of her boot. It was enough to get out of his grip but not anywhere near enough to incapacitate him. She bitterly regretted leaving her sidearm upstairs. Reaching for the first thing she could grab, the keyboard, she swung it and whacked it down hard on the wrist of his gun hand sending his pistol skittling across the lab floor and under the large chemical store. She earned herself a stinging backhand slap for that.

Next goal was evasion and hope that Nick got here- fast. Growling with animalist rage, Joe made a grab for her, painfully grasping a fair chunk of her hair. She pulled away, no doubt causing a scalp injury but leaving him with only a fist of golden strands. Escape through the door was not an option; he blocked that with his massive frame. She stayed small and low, neatly hiding behind equipment but the lab was a limited space, he would find her. In a reflection of a computer screen, she saw him take her sketch and heard him tear out the page and place it in the shredder. She swallowed as she saw him pull a wound-up coil of wire out of his pocket and begin to twist it methodically around his massive gloved hands.

‘Come out, come out, wherever you are’ he called with sinister glee, a textbook maniacal murderer voice.

She scanned her location for anything she could use as a weapon and her eyes fell to the red button on the wall.

Decision made she used a burst of speed to sprint across the room and thump the fire alarm call button. The wailing of the fire alert blared in her ears complete with flashing emergency strobe lighting. This being the lab it alerted the whole building to biohazard and chemical explosion risk. Help would be here in minutes, now she just had to survive until the cavalry arrived.

Joe was trashing the place to get to her as she hurled equipment, books, hell even coffee mugs at him, getting lucky landing one on his temple. Nothing slowed him down though. Her assailant was close enough for her to see a vein pulsing rapidly in his neck. His face was one of unadulterated rage; he had underestimated her, as so many men did, her petite blond exterior belying her abilities as an agent.

Everything next happened lightning fast.

A shadow at the glass door she recognised instantly as Nick.

Relief

Joe flinging a glass jar and liquid splashing her face.

Her nostrils filled with a disgusting, choking, acidic odour.

Then searing, burning pain.

An agonised scream she barely recognised as her own.

Glass smashing

Gunshots.

Pain, blistering pain that was spreading to her hands as she tried to wipe her eyes.

And then Nick was there screaming her name over the wailing of the alarm, whilst trying to drag her with him, his hands yanking her hands away from her face and then freezing cold water sloshing over her face, flushing her eyes and as much as she tried to pull away, away from the pain and the terror coursing through her, he stood like a solid wall surrounding her, forcing her face back under the water again and again and again. She spluttered, coughed and cried out in agony, panicking herself so much that she tried to get away from his unflinching grip.

‘Breathe Ellie, Christ, breathe! Stop fighting me, let me help, I have to wash the chemical away!’ she could hear the fear and urgency in his voice; she tried to stop struggling against him. Realisation was slowly filtering through to her brain and she tried to push past the excruciating burning in her eyes and placed her trust in Nick.

She had chemical burns to her eyes, her face.

His firm hand, recognising her ‘fight or flight’ defences wearing off held her up around her waist whilst he gently pulled her hair back, directing the spray of water into her upper face, turning her head slightly to let the rivulets drain away avoiding her nose and mouth. She heard other voices shouting around her then, Nick calling for paramedics, feet pounding across the floor, someone yelling to turn the damn alarm off.

Ellie grabbed Nick’s arm that was supporting her midriff, she fought back the pain and drew a quick breath in ‘Did you see him? It was Joe, he shredded my sketch’ she managed to croak out. Her fingertips stung as if on fire.

‘He’s gone, out the fire escape, I didn’t see his face and I didn’t land a shot’ he answered dejectedly. She let out a low moan that escalated to a pained cry.

‘Ow, ow, ow, it hurts Nick!’ He shushed her gently and continued to sluice her eyes with the water, the pain was lessening a little, her eyelids seemed glued together but she forced them open.

_I can’t see, it's all dark!  
_

Fear started to rise up her throat. She choked out the question she needed to ask. A whimper escaped her first.

‘How bad Nick?’ she whispered.

‘Ellie, we need to get you to the hospital, try not to panic, I’m right here, I’m staying right here. It’ll be ok.’

He had also totally evaded answering her question, but she heard a slight hitch in his voice, that if she didn’t know him as well as she did, she would have missed. It was _bad_ , he knew it and couldn’t hide it.

The paramedics arrived and they let Nick continue sluicing her face, both of them bent over the cold steel sink while they got details of the possible chemical agents that had used in the attack. Bottles were smashed up all over the place, so it was impossible to pinpoint the offending substance. They commended Nick for his rapid action but he said nothing to them, just continued to support her wilting body against his frame and gently finger comb her soaked hair back from her face while mumbling crooning comforting words to her, in a mixture of English and Spanish. Her grip never loosened on his arm even as shivers vibrated through her body.

_I’m going into shock_ a remote part of her brain registered.

After what seemed like forever Nick stopped the sluicing and the paramedics placed a soaked surgical pad across her face and placed her hands in plastic bags. Unseen hands touched her as she lay down and was strapped to the trolley stretcher. Nick kept talking to her keeping the growing terror at bay. Doors slamming, ringtones, sirens, shouts, a cacophony of noise threatened to overwhelm her, so she took a deep calming breath and shut everything and everyone out…except Nick.

‘I’m right here Ellie, I’m coming in the ambulance, Gibbs has been making calls, best of the best on the way. These guys are going to give you something for the pain now, try to relax cariño while they put in the IV line ok’.

He continued to stroke her forearm and squeezed her shoulder. He was leaning close to her, she could feel his breath on her ear, what he was saying was just for her. She noticed his Spanish accent was creeping out, that only happened when he was truly stressed. She also noted he wasn’t cracking jokes or smart mouthing her with his usual teasing innuendo.

_This is bad_.

She used all her mental prowess to force herself away from analysing her situation, assessing the evidence of what had just happened and coming to a dreadful conclusion, _no don’t go there Ellie_. Instead, she started to mentally recite the numeric value of Pi. Slowly she felt herself relax, a new warmth washed over her, pain seeped away, and her walled-up panic ebbed and Nick whispered ‘Sleep Ellie, let the medication do its job, sleep, I’m right here...’

Nick was with her, she slept.


	2. Bitter Pill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick has to swallow down his usual hot-tempered gut reaction in the aftermath of the attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it's not too long guys, this story seems to be more of a marathon than a sprint, blame the lockdown!  
> Thank you for all the comments x

God, he hated hospitals; the weird smells, the bland pastel décor, like _everywhere_ and the constantly ringing phones and bleeps and beeps. But mostly he hated the pervasive feeling of helplessness that always twisted his gut whenever he stood in one.

Thirty-seven hours. Nick had sat in that beige room for thirty-seven hours excepting the few times the nurses had shooed him out to attend to her personal care. He sat beside her bed on a hard, plastic chair, gently brushing the back of her bandaged hand with his fingertips, his mind numb from exhaustion. Her hands weren’t so bad, blistered and raw, but the ointments they had applied had helped. He had spent hours mindlessly pondering how the wrapping accentuated her petite yet gracefully long fingers.

It was easier than looking at her face. Unconsciously his eyes flicked to just there. In shock, he flinched again, his stomach heaving. He rammed down another wave of nausea. It was an ingrained habit, Jesus; he’d spent most days, for months now, stealing peeks and mooning over her beautiful features… _This can’t be happening_

On arrival to the hospital she had been sedated and taken to surgery for examination, further irrigation and possible debriding of the burns. He had paced up and down the family room wearing a track along the cream and muted peppermint tiled floor, two thoughts raging within him.

_She has to be ok_

_I’m going to kill him._

Fear, anger and hatred but also, he had to admit, guilt. He was late down to the lab because he was busy organising a _stupid_ prank for Bishop, actually ordering an Arnie action doll from Amazon for her desk.

_What the actual fuck Torres!_

His anger at her attacker and at himself boiled in his blood and churned the bile of his guts. Some of this was his fault. He had let her down and she’d got hurt.

And her silence was freaking him out.

Since coming to from her sedation she had said not one word. Superficial and moderate chemical injuries to her upper facial skin and grade two injury to both eyes the specialist had said bluntly. Her skin should heal well with regular burn specific, antimicrobial treatments; he was optimistic that grafting wouldn’t be needed. Nick had felt his jaw drop at that possibility. Then to be told the eye damage had a ‘guarded prognosis’.

_What the fuck did that mean?_

She didn’t ask any questions, just nodded in acknowledgment of the receipt of the information. Her silence was definitely freaking him out.

Sure, she cried out with pain as they instilled her various eye drop medications every hour on the hour. She held on to his hand each time, squeezing his fingers with a death grip, hissing out in discomfort but not a word did she say. Sloane explained to him and the rest of the team in the waiting room that it was Bishop’s coping mechanism, she had shut herself off to protect herself, even from him.

If anyone else said ‘time is a great healer’ he would literally rip their throat out!

He felt every jolt and jerk of her body when a noise or a too close voice spooked her. The sleep deprivation alone was distressing her. He thought at first maybe she doesn’t really want me with her, yet she seemed to reluctantly relinquish his hand when he had to leave the room and she blindly reached for it each time he came back in. It was enough. He stayed. He would not leave her side for as long as she needed him.

Two padded gauze eyepatches covered her eyes, lightly held with white tape ready for the next scheduled eye treatment. Her left cheek was a blotchy red. The nurses smoothed a clear medicated gel over that every 4 hours. The right side of her face was blistered and angry scarlet. A foam dressing covered her cheek bone area, white cream had to be freshly applied twice a day to that. He had seen what was underneath all the dressings and creams in Kasie’s lab the day of the attack but knew it was worse now, and it broke his heart. He held her hands each treatment time, reassuring and comforting her as best he could with whatever combination of words he thought might help her as she battled through the pain.

_Joe was a fucking dead man._

A light rap at the door took him out of his murderous daydreams. Gibbs popped his head in, ‘Hey Bishop I’m going to sit with you for a while if you don’t mind and Sloane will be here later. Torres, you’re getting a little ripe, go home.’

‘I’m staying boss’ he declared adamantly springing to his feet, still touching the uninjured back of her hand.

‘Go home, shower, eat, sleep for a couple of hours, that’s an order’ he added firmly. ‘0700, pick up Mrs Bishop from the airport’.

Ellie took a deep breath in, ‘ _I_ rang your folks Bishop so don’t go blaming Torres here, take it out on me if you want.’ She relaxed and expired slowly through her nose seeming to deflate again into her shell.

Nick felt like exploding; he wanted to stay but he had to admit he was exhausted, emotionally and physically running on empty. He had promised he would stay but feeling the rough two-day stubble as he scrubbed his face with his free hand to rouse himself, he knew he must look like crap.

‘We care about Bishop just as much as you Torres’ he levelled his quintessential ‘Gibbs stare’ at Nick and although he wanted to argue _that_ point he quickly decided now was probably not the best time. After a just a few seconds he stood himself down, relaxing his hostile stance, his eyes flicking to the patient.

‘Ellie are you ok if I go?’ he asked her plaintively. She gave his hand a squeeze and managed a quick bandaged thumbs up. ‘Ok if you’re sure, but I’ll be back with your mom in a couple of hours, try to sleep’. His fingers itched to keep contact with her skin but he moved away, very aware of his boss’s scrutiny.

Gibbs nodded his head to the door, dismissing him. Leaving, as he closed the door to her room gently, he saw Gibbs take over his spot beside the bed and putting his hand just where his had been. He saw her shoulders relax. His own did the same.

He had never met Barbara Bishop, but he had seen the photos Ellie had all around her apartment, smiling family shots, all cosy cuddles and Christmas mornings, but even without them he would have spotted her a mile off. Blonde wavy shoulder-length hair, confident hazel eyes and a warm smile. This is what he imagined Bishop would look like in like 30 years… not that he thought about that much.

‘Hi Mrs Bishop, I’m Special Agent Nick Torres’ he nervously introduced himself extending his hand. He had slept a few hours, freshened up, carefully shaved. Best foot forward and all that, at least he didn’t look like roadkill.

‘Nice to finally put a face to the name Agent Torres, Ellie talks about you a lot. And Barbara please’ she smiled warmly shaking his hand. He could see she was tired, and worry was etched on her face.

_Ellie talks about me to her mom! Of course she does you idiot, you’re her work partner._ His heart had soared a little and he had quashed the elation as a wave of guilt hit him again.

He cleared his throat a little as he took her bag, ‘it’s Nick Mrs, I- sorry Barbara,’ he stumbled, ‘can I get you a coffee or something, do you want to freshen up at Bishop’s apartment…’

‘I want to see my daughter Nick’ she replied firmly. ‘And on the way, you can tell me the truth, no sugar coating. My daughter says you’re her most trusted friend, so I _trust_ you will tell me how she is honestly.’ She gave him a direct, piercing look, identical to the one Ellie regularly gave him when she was needling him for a straight answer. He had not _yet_ figured out a way to deflect his Bishop; he knew he had no chance against her mom.

The hour-long drive to the hospital was tough. He gave Barbara the facts of the injuries and what the doctors had said as concisely and dispassionately as he could. He explained that the prognosis regarding her eyesight was ‘guarded’ and that the specialist had justified that as preparing Ellie psychologically for a worst-case scenario. They would know more in seven days. He told her about Ellie not talking and about Sloane’s analysis of that.

Nick had his eyes fixed on the road ahead but stole furtive glances as she repetitively twisted a tissue around her fingers and occasionally dabbed her cheek. On arrival at the hospital though she took a deep breath, checked herself in the visor mirror and squared her shoulders. Nick could literally see her assume a ‘mom’ game face; determined, tough, ready to battle for her daughter. Yes, she was _exactly_ how he saw Ellie in the future, he thought with a secret smile.

Without hesitation Barbara Bishop strode into her daughter’s room, ‘I’m here honey’ was all she said, and she sat on the bed and clutched Ellie into a fierce hug. Nick turned away and pulled the door shut as heart-wrenching, guttural sobs erupted from his partner.

_Joe was a fucking dead man._

‘Tell me we got something boss’ Torres stood in the corridor his jaw clenched in an effort not to react to Ellie’s emotional outpouring. While caring for Ellie he had put the details of the case on the backburner, now he needed to know where the bastard was.

‘What we got Torres, is that Bishop is still in danger’ Gibbs barked out, ‘I’ve ordered round the clock protective detail by people I know and trust but I’m leaving you here too on a one-to-one. Her attacker was alerted to our lead and our game plan. Our mole must be in-house or at least has access to our systems. He got past NCIS building security; I have McGee running the CCTV against the credential card swipe ins. Kasie is working on finding DNA trace evidence from the lab, being Navy he’ll be in the system. She’s also jig-sawing Bishop’s sketch back together but she’s not optimistic. Bishop is still the only one who can identify him’.

That was probably the longest statement Nick had ever heard his boss complete. Nick took in the waves of fury emanating from Gibbs, as the older man’s voice had lowered to a dangerous level; he was taking this personally, Joe had signed his own death warrant when he touched one of _his_ team, _his family_.

Landing a penetrating, eyeballing stare on Nick ensuring his full attention Gibbs continued quietly, ‘Vance is liaising with inter-departmental higher ups but as we don’t know how far up this goes, I don’t trust anybody. You stick like glue to our girl. She’s your responsibility until this is done, got it?’

‘Got it Boss’ he complied with a curt nod, happy to be staying near Bishop but fuming he wouldn’t be in the field, first on scene to rip this Joe guy limb from limb, slowly and painfully.

‘Go with your gut on this Nick, someone got too close to us and he didn’t even blip on our radar. If it feels wrong, call it in. No solo heroics. And here, McGee gathered up her go-bag and some of her stuff. Might make her feel more like herself to have her things,’ he added gruffly.

That night after her mom had gone back to her apartment and he was feet up on a battered recliner chair they had dragged into her room for him, he pulled her favourite earbuds and iPod out of her go-bag. Maybe music would help block out the sudden noises that were freaking her out.

‘Jeez Bishop, how much country music do you have in here?’. He imagined she almost smiled at that as he went through her playlist picking out enough tunes to last a few hours. Whilst flicking, his eye caught another playlist of Latino music, all the songs he recognised from his own salsa dance collection, the one he entertained everyone in the office with- when Gibbs was away. He said nothing and continued adding country tunes but felt a satisfied smile tug at his mouth.

_So she does like my music._

She slept better that night and so did he.

Two days later Nick tapped politely at Bishop’s hospital room door, his eyes scanned over Ellie taking in her changed appearance. She was sitting up; her hair was neatly braided and she was wearing button up cotton pyjamas instead of a hospital gown.

‘I bought coffee and some sandwiches for you ladies, B you up to that?’ she had eaten hardly anything since the attack, mostly just sliced fruit that she could manage herself. It worried him that her appetite was still gone.

He was about to leave the items on the bedtable when a croaked out ‘thank you Nick’ from Bishop left him gaping in surprise. Barbara sent him an encouraging smile.

‘I, er, got you turkey club, without the lettuce, just how you like it…and some M&Ms’ he hesitated, ‘is that ok?’

A brief smile lit up her face ‘fantastic, I’m starving’. His heart fluttered with hope.

_There’s my girl!_

‘Sounds perfect Nick’, answered her mom, glancing between the two of them, ‘please sit, stay. I’m going to take my coffee and go get some fresh air. Maybe while you’re here you can talk some sense into my daughter. I have no idea where she gets her stubbornness from’ she added with a good-humoured huff, leaving the room.

Ellie had tilted her head, a definite obstinate set to her jaw. Nick threw himself into the chair, tired but his heart feeling just a little lighter. If she was talking and even fighting with her mom her gumption was returning. ‘So what am I talking you in to or out of B?’ he asked lightly but with his usual teasing tone.

‘Take me home Nick, please’ she blurted ‘I can’t take the constant noise, the strangers touching me… I just want to go home’ there was a pleading tone to her voice that Nick just knew he would move heaven and earth to do whatever she asked.

‘What about your mom, don’t you want to go home to recover with her in Oklahoma?’

‘Jeez Nick, no!’ she was shocked at the suggestion. ‘My home is here in DC and I have work to do on this case. I’ve asked my mom to head home, dad’s not great after his hip surgery and I can manage here, I’ll be fine’.

Nick did not want to be the one to point out the glaringly obvious to her while she was in this mood, no point in destroying the first sign of the fighter he knew she was. A low, throaty groan escaped him as he rubbed his hands roughly over his face. He knew she should really stay in the hospital but he also knew, without a doubt, he would cave to her wish. He rapidly started weighing up options, chewing on his bottom lip as he reluctantly decided.

‘Ok Bishop, the specialist that’s coming to examine your eyes later today, _if_ he gives the OK, then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll get you out of here _but_ there’s one condition’ he bargained with his best teasing tone

‘What’s that Nick?’ she questioned suspiciously.

‘You let me care for you, _without_ objection’, he added with a tap of his index finger on her wrist.

‘You said one condition, that’s two by my calculation’ she countered.

‘That’s the deal B, take it or leave it’ he shrugged. ‘I will bust you outta here but you’re going to need help at home. Hey, you get the gift of me, what’s not to like?’ he taunted cockily.

He watched as she weighed it up for several seconds, her lips hard-pressed into a straight line

‘Come on B, I can literally hear your brain computing a pros and cons list’ he joked but on tenterhooks she’d accept his offer.

‘Okay, okay! Deal!’ she agreed with a smile.

Barbara and Nick waited impatiently for Ellie to be wheeled back from the ophthalmology clinical rooms. She had insisted on going by herself as she would be mildly sedated again to allow the specialist to fully examine the damage. Once back in bed and after a short snooze the doctor appeared. Nick and her mom held one of Ellie’s hands each, ready for whatever news they were about to receive.

‘I’ve examined your eyes Ms. Bishop and I believe there’s room to hope for a better outcome than initially expected’. Dr. Shah smiled at the collective puff of breath the three let out simultaneously. ‘It’ll take time though, the corrosive agent, while not as acidic as we thought, has done damage. There’s a film of sloughy tissue over your cornea that will have to come off naturally before we can truly assess visual acuity. The eyedrop medication will have to continue, on the strict schedule I have prescribed. As Ms. Bishop has requested an early discharge, I have arranged for Nurse O’Brien, our resident tissue viability and burns expert, to visit you in a short while to assess your facial injuries and instruct you all on wound care and instillation of medications. Any questions Ms. Bishop?’

‘When will I be able to go back to work?’

Nick gawked at her optimism. The doctor caught her whiff of denial too.

‘One step at a time. This is still a serious injury. Your eyes are reacting to light which is good, but it’s going to take time and healing to gauge what deficits are residual. I will caution you though. There is still a prospect of your sight being seriously diminished. You should prepare yourself for that’ he waited a moment to ensure they all took that in. ‘For a minimum of the next two weeks you will need to continue to wear the gauze eye pads at all times, even if you notice the return of some visual capacity. Infection is a big risk, no getting your eyes wet unless it’s with sterile saline solution. I’ll make an appointment for you to visit me on Monday and hopefully we’ll see some improvement then’.

The air seemed to have evaporated from the room as the medic left. Ellie’s mom stood up breaking the mood, ‘soda, I need one, anyone else?’

‘Sure mom, Diet Coke please’

‘I’m good thanks Barbara’ he answered shyly still finding it a bit awkward to call her by her first name and Ellie picked up on it. As the room door closed she rounded on him.

‘Nicholas Torres, are you crushing on my mom!?’

‘What- noooo, uh uh, nope!’ he scrambled. One Bishop crush was quite enough.

‘I can hear you blush from here’ she laughed.

‘Am not!’ he scoffed. ‘Look if you must know I think your mom is lovely, awesome _and_ a little…intimidating. I feel like a jumpy teenager when she gives me that look, you know, its like a ‘Gibbs stare’, I feel I should confess to something’ he gave an anxious laugh, gauging her reaction.

She erupted in relaxed laughing ‘Nick, she’s raised four kids, three of them boys, she’s like a bloodhound for male subterfuge and emotional distress. She loves to mother people and she likes you. She’ll start with the hugs soon’ Ellie chortled knowingly.

‘Oh man!’ He blew out a melodramatic breath in slight alarm.

‘I’ll protect you Nick’ she promised still laughing, ‘unless… you _do_ have something to confess, then you’re on your own!’

They were both laughing at his embarrassment when a redheaded nurse came to the room.

‘Hi guys, I’m Aoife O’Brien’ she introduced herself with a friendly Irish accent, ‘if you don’t mind Eleanor, I’ll have a quick look at your injuries and then chat to yourself and your boyfriend about wound care and dressing techniques’.

_‘He’s not my boyfriend’_

_‘I’m not her boyfriend’._ They both disputed simultaneously.

‘Oh, I’m sorry lads, I was informed you were her partner... I just assumed…’ she apologised.

‘Just work partners’ clarified Nick with an embarrassed cough. The nurse however gave him a certain look whilst glancing at their conjoined hands with a smile that said she didn’t believe for a second that’s all Ellie was to him. He felt heat rising up his face and sheepishly looked away.

‘Right, I see’ she said nodding sagely still smiling, ‘Are we waiting for your mam to come back Eleanor?’

Nick noticed Bishop’s face had a rosy blush, _damn she was pretty when she was embarrassed._

‘Please call me Ellie, and no, my mom will be heading home to Oklahoma tonight. Nick here has insisted on being my carer _just until I can manage by myself’_ she added firmly.

‘You know Nick’, Aoife started hesitantly, ‘caring for someone with these needs is not for the faint-hearted; round the clock meds, dressings, personal care…it’s _a lot_ , even with the best of intentions. It’ll be exhausting, intimidating, emotional…’ The nurse had assessed the situation with her astute glance; he knew she was giving him a way out. ‘We could organise home nursing visits…share the load?’

‘Nick, it’s ok you know, if it’s too much?’ Ellie uttered tentatively. She was giving him a cold feet, chicken out option too.

‘Thank you but no, I’m good’ he answered resolutely giving Ellie’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

_This_ time he would be there for Ellie.

_All in_.

‘Ok then Nick let’s start with the basics; handwashing…’

He had done exactly as Aoife had calmly and skilfully shown him; the clinical handwash routine, opening dressing packs, donning gloves, removing soiled dressings, fresh gloves and then gently swabbing the exudate and crusting from her blistered eyelids. He winced when some of her eye lashes came away with the gauze. Whilst instilling eye medication, he murmured apologies as a hiss of pain escaped Ellie as the drops stung her afresh and finally, he reapplied the eye patches.

Next the speckling of open seeping wounds on her right cheek had to be cleaned. Aoife took a photo for the file, giving him a sympathetic smile of encouragement as she offered him a minute to steady himself. He got his trembling hands under control and then continued, applying the sweet-smelling manuka honey infused dressing as the nurse skilfully directed. Only every other day dressings for her cheek though he reminded himself, making sure he had correctly mentally logged that to her treatment regime along with all the other overwhelming amount of information.

Her left cheek and hands only needed emollient cream; Ellie had nodded when Aoife suggested she could manage those areas herself.

Nurse O’Brien gave some practical tips, encouraging Ellie to be as independent as possible but to accept help with good grace as it was hopefully only for a short time. Adaptions around meals, arranging items spatially for ease of use, falls risk, assistive apps available, strategies to cope with her changed circumstances and minding her mental health during this challenging time. She gave Nick her contact details for him to email update photos of the wounds, urging him to contact her at any time if he was concerned or just in need of professional advice or support. She would review the wounds again with Dr. Shah on Monday.

Ellie had stayed quiet again throughout. _Please Ellie, don’t disappear on me again_

Nick left Ellie with her mom while he went to the visitor bathroom. Splashing cold water on his face he grimaced at himself in the mirror. _Get a grip Nick you can do this!_

Nick knew was perfectly _capable_ of practising what he had been shown to do by Nurse O’Brien and meticulously following the written-out instruction she had provided.

But… he felt mentally traumatized and overwhelmed by the task. The wounds looked awful; angry, inflamed, pitted… painful. And her eyes… He would have to inflict pain on her doing these treatments, every four hours consistently, no exceptions. He was horribly glad that Ellie couldn’t see his reaction to her burns. His face had still not recovered from his shock, his poker face had failed him today, but he had put every fibre of his being into keeping his voice steady in Ellie’s presence. Nurse Aoife O’Brien was amazingly good at her job; he struggled to comprehend how she looked at damage and mutilation everyday with such compassion, confidence and cheerfulness.

Taking a deep breath, he battled down his self-doubt. If he was struggling what was Ellie going through? _Ellie needs me to do this, I can do this._

The realisation hit him. He would do _anything_ for her.

_That’s what you do when you love someone, right?_


	3. Bewitched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick realises he may have taken on more than he bargained for!

That evening Sloane had brought Barbara to the airport after a poignant goodbye, with Ellie promising to talk on the phone every day. True to Ellie’s word, before she left, her mom had enclosed him in a long hug and when she released him, she placed a hand on his flaming cheek.

‘Thank you, Nick, for looking after Eleanor, I know she’s in very good hands’ she uttered sincerely. Taking her hand away she added in a slightly louder tone, nodding her head towards her daughter, ‘Don’t let her bully you; if she’s bad tempered, throw food at her, if that doesn’t work, call me’.

‘Mom!!’ Ellie wailed out in chagrin adding several vowels to the word.

‘Yes ma’am’ Nick smartly replied trying his best to keep in his amusement at Ellie’s appalled face.

Her discharge and transport back to her apartment was like a military exercise. Gibbs drove the car with Nick and Ellie in the back. There was a second car on point and another two trusted agents ahead of them. On arrival at her building the agents had already checked out Ellie’s apartment and had taken up position, one in the lobby and one outside her door. Ellie walked linked on to Nick. He murmured advance warnings of steps, turns and avoided obstacles. He could feel her clamp on his arm, tightening every so often, as she resisted the urge to blindly swing her arm out to feel her way. She trusted him to keep her from harm. Finally, closing her hall door with a nod of acknowledgement to their minder outside and he got her to her sofa. Now it was just the two of them.

‘Home sweet home B’ he breathed out in relief.

In an effort to create normality he clicked the TV on with low volume and called out to her from the kitchen. ‘Hey B, you hungry? Looks like your mom cooked up a storm here, the fridge is full, erm, lasagne… chilli… some kind of pie?’ he snapped his mouth shut when he heard her sobs. He rushed to the couch and found her drawn up into a tight ball, arms crossed, hugging herself as she cried. He sat down beside her and pulled her into an embrace.

He rocked her gently waiting for the sobs to subside. ‘What if I’m blind Nick, what if this is it, this is my life now? I can’t work, I can’t drive, I can’t even _read_ for god’s sake! What if years from now… I never get to see my kid’s face…’ her voice petered out; her body shook with shuddering gasps as she tried to get her breathing back under control.

Nick could clearly see Ellie’s hypothetical future kid, unsurprisingly perhaps she had her momma’s blond hair and brains and his brown eyes and sass but now was not the time to tell _that_ to his upset partner.

‘I know you’re scared Ellie, I am too’ he brushed the stray strands of hair back gently from her forehead and impulsively landed a kiss on her hairline. ‘The doctor is optimistic, so we’ll hold to that. We’ll get through this together’ he reassured her giving her hug an extra squeeze. He hushed comforting Spanish phrases knowing he couldn’t say them to her in English yet but conscious she understood him. He briefly wondered how often he could get away with calling her ‘cariño’ before she called him on it but decided it was worth it.

She sniffed a few times calming herself but her head stayed in the crook of his neck, her fist had clenched the front of his shirt. He chanced another forehead kiss and he felt her tense body ease.

‘I need a bath’ she finally managed after so long he thought she had fallen asleep.

‘Ok, I’ll draw a bath for you and while you’re in the tub relaxing, I’ll heat up something your mom made for dinner. Are you ok for now?’ He asked anxiously.

‘Yeah, I’m good Nick, sorry for the- ‘

‘Stop you right there B, nothing to apologise for’

As the bubble bath was filling, he grabbed a face flannel, placed towels on the rad to warm, and took a fresh t-shirt and leggings from her neatly folded clean laundry basket. He also selected some plain underwear, trying _really_ hard not to think anything of it. _You are not a dick Torres!_

_Rule 28._

He texted a terse message to Jack, ‘I need help sorting Bishop’s clothes, any ideas?’.

‘Leave it to me, I’ll be there in the morning’ came Sloane’s rapid reply.

 _Thank god_ he thought, swallowing down the building awkwardness of imagining having to sort through and choose Ellie’s intimate clothing items for the next few weeks. _Nope not going there!_

And _that_ there was part of his problem.

He had _never_ felt awkward or unsure around any woman he was interested in. His recent relationships followed a certain trajectory; fun and flirty banter, a few hot steamy nights, mutual satisfaction and a fond farewell. In his years on the job undercover he had perfected how to manipulate any romantic situation to get closer to his mark. He had his moves, his lines, his charm and sex appeal; a well-oiled machine to get any lady… _except_ when it came to Eleanor Bishop. She was frustratingly immune to his flirtatious repartee, even his best lines fell flat, she frequently rolled her eyes and snorted comical rebuffs when he flexed his impeccable physique and his seductive dancing had reduced her to tears of hilarity.

She on the other hand was mesmerising. She had a beauty that enthralled him, petite, delicate graceful. Her smile stopped him in his tracks, it lit up her whole face and when that smile was just for him…magical. She was confident, sweet and off the chart smart. He hung on her every word, hell, she could read out the Maryland State Highway Traffic Code and it would be … _hot_! Her eyes spoke a language of their own, he could eagerly spend his life trying to figure out their irresistible nuances.

He had it bad.

But Ellie Bishop also infuriated him in ways no other woman ever had. They bickered constantly; she saw right through him, she called it as she saw it and she didn’t back down. She put herself in danger way too often and continually brushed off his protective tendencies.

The most confusing thing of all though was that she was his _friend_. Rock solid, had his back, there when you need her, no questions asked, lounge around, hang out and goof about with, friend. Nick had never had that with anyone before. He could not risk losing that friendship. 

But he _wanted_ her.

And he had no idea what to do about that.

  


He walked her into the bathroom and stayed with his back turned while she undressed. ‘B, I promise I won’t look but you’re going to need my help to step into the tub ok? Hold my hand’. She clasped his steady arm and he averted his eyes, paying close attention the grouting between her bathroom wall tiles while he lowered her down and let her adjust herself into the bubbly water. She let out a moan that made his eyes widen with imagining another occasion his efforts could elicit a sound of such pleasure. Now was _not_ the time for teasing banter, he knew she was feeling vulnerable and exposed. ‘You all set?’

‘Perfect Nick, absolutely perfect’, she crooned in obvious bliss.

‘Ok, call me when you need me to help you out, and remember don’t get your face wet.’ She managed a ‘hmmm’ of agreement and he left her to soak in privacy but left the door slightly ajar so he could hear her call from the kitchen.

He decided to reheat the chilli and cook some rice. Hospital food had been particularly bland, and he knew Ellie could manage to eat it unaided from a bowl with a spoon. She was mortified if she made a mess as she struggled to feed herself; half the reason, he thought, why she had eaten so little since the incident. He grated some extra cheese into the sauce, she needed building up.

‘Nick?’

‘Yeah coming’ he answered turning off the gas under their meal and heading to the bathroom, tapping a knock on the door and staying on the other side. ‘You ready to get out?’

‘Uh, can I ask a favour first?’

‘Anything B’, he answered sincerely, worried by her nervous tone.

‘If I tilt my head back can you wash my hair?’

‘Sure B, I can do that’ he swallowed down the lump that had suddenly developed in this throat. ‘I’m coming in, you ready?’

‘As I’ll ever be’ she managed to laugh out.

He glanced in her direction, taking in that she was sitting up, with her arms clutched around her folded-up knees. Thankfully, the water was still bubbly and covering…what needed covering. He knelt at the top of the bath focusing on the damp hair trailing in tendrils down her back. He noticed she had lost weight; her ribs were starkly prominent under her pale skin.

‘I haven’t washed it since last week; I’m soo looking forward to this’ she murmured with a dreamy smile.

‘What shampoo shall I use, ah, there’s a blue one, an apricot one…?’

‘Yes, that one please. I hope you don’t mind?’ she asked a little nervously perhaps knowing this was a fairly awkward situation.

‘I’m here to help B, your wish is my command, I live to serve, manservant at your beck and call...’ he added flamboyantly drawing out her laughter. ‘Right tilt your head back and use this flannel to stop any drips heading south of your forehead’ he instructed as he squeezed some of the fruity scented shampoo into his palm and slowly lathered up her hair. His fingers massaged her scalp in rhythmic motions, circling around the base of her skull and then combing down the length of her locks. Again, with her moan of pleasure he had to roll his eyes heavenward silently pleading for divine fortitude to direct his thoughts away from the _earthlier_ delights that popped into his mind at her sounds.

 _Is she purring??_ Suddenly all the blood from his head headed south of the border as he was spellbound by the humming she breathed out. _Jesus, Ellie you’re killing me!_

‘So you’re saying I could have had a career in a salon huh?’ he cajoled desperately trying to add levity to the rising temperature in the room.

‘Oh yeah, I'd pay good money for this’ she assured him. 

_So would I, right?_ This was above and beyond the most sensual thing he had ever done, with anyone, and he could blissfully do it every day of the week, for the rest of his life.

Deciding he had better finish up before he embarrassed himself, he took a plastic jug from the side of the bath he carefully rinsed away the suds. His fingers itched to follow the bubbles down her back, but he clenched his jaw and blinked firmly to rid himself of wandering thoughts. After squeezing out the excess water he gently towel-dried her hair, mindful of the need to keep her face dry. ‘Ok let’s get you out before you get cold. We’ll do it like before, you grab on to my hand.’ He hauled her up and quickly hung out the towel wide and wrapped it around her whilst again diverting his eyes, this time to the very interesting light fitting on the ceiling. Once securely swathed in the towel he helped her step out over the side of the tub. Sweat trickled between his shoulder blades as he realised how fraught the situation was _. God, I need a cold shower and a colder beer!_

‘I’ve left some night clothes on your bed; I hope they are ok? Can you manage getting dressed?’ he carefully angled her body towards her bedroom and sat her down on her bed, his eyes narrowed as she fumbled around for the clothes he had placed there. ‘On your 3, B’ he prompted.

‘I’ll be fine Nick, thank you’ she smiled sincerely as her fingers found the pile.

‘Ok, dinner in five, here’s your hairbrush, a hair elastic thingy if you need it and the tube of the special cream for your hands. We can tackle the rest after dinner?’

‘Sure Nick, I’m all yours’

_Christ, this woman would be the death of him!_


	4. Blind spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie feels conflicted as danger closes in again. Will she ever see the woods for the trees?

_Ellie knew he was getting closer, she was trapped._

_No matter how fast she ran down the dark, oppressive corridor, his footsteps echoed closer, closer._

_Regardless of how quiet she was or how carefully she concealed herself rolled tight into a ball, he would find her._

_He was gaining on her, he was so close now_

_Laughing at her, his boots creaking the old plank flooring,_

_Reaching out with that muscular hand to grab her…_

She thrashed out at the hand on her shoulder and made contact with something solidly fleshy.

‘Ow! Ellie? Ellie it’s me, Nick, wake up cariño, you’re having a dream’, she felt Nick’s warm hand brushing her hair away from her face.

It took a couple of seconds, everything was off kilter, his voice echoed, the air smelled dusty, unlived in and cold, freezing cold. She could feel all the hairs on her arms raised as frigid air and fear hit her. Not her apartment, no, a big, old, half empty, icy cold safe house that Gibbs had ‘borrowed’ from an old marine pal who wintered in Hawaii every year. Smart guy!

Her memory flooded back. ‘Jeez Nick, sorry did I hurt you’ realising belatedly she had clocked him a fair punch.

‘Nooo’, he drawled out, ‘man of steel here, did you hurt your hand on my perfectly chiselled jaw?’ he chuckled as he started rubbing his thumbs across her knuckles and stretching out her fingers to examine them.

‘No I’m fine, just got a little disorientated, different smells, noises, I think I panicked in my sleep. Sorry for waking you’. She reached out her hand and got a surprise as it landed on his warm, bare thigh.

‘Oops, sorry’ she jumped back her hand as if she had been given an electric shock. ‘Wait, are you wearing _shorts_?! It’s Baltic freezing in this house! I’m wearing like practically everything I own and I’m still shivering!’ she spluttered.

‘Gibbs said the heating boiler is temperamental, should have it fixed tomorrow, but the fire is lit downstairs, I got hot, like _hotter_ cos you know I’m already _way_ hot, right?’ She could imagine him preening himself and smirking as he said that. _Back to flirty!_

‘Why aren’t you in bed? You need sleep Nick’

‘I slept enough’, he shot back roughly.

‘We were poisoned Nick, it wasn’t your fault, it’s a colourless, odourless gas, I’m fine, we both are’ she placed a reassuring hand carefully on his leg, hopeful that it was at a respectable distance from his shorts this time.

‘You are my responsibility B, I should have known he wouldn’t quit’.

_No, Joe wouldn’t quit until she was dead._

After that first night home from the hospital they had settled into a new routine that left little time to mope about her injuries. Ellie was determined to be useful to the team, the case and not appear weakened by that bastard’s attack. She would not cry in front of Nick again. He was doing so much already; he didn’t need to see her sob into her cornflakes every morning, despite how she might be feeling, no matter how afraid she was in this perpetual darkness that isolated her from the world.

Sloane had arrived early on the first morning, leaving Nick free to go for a run, and very helpfully arranged her clothes into a daily ‘bundle’, each one tightly rolled up, held with a thick elastic band, and contained underwear, a t shirt, leggings and socks, all colour coordinated and ready to wear.

‘It’s how I packed for overseas deployments, had to be organised with a rucksack. This way it’s just ‘grab ‘n go’’, she explained as she also reorganised Ellie’s toiletries to the bare minimum of what was needed, all the other cluttered lotions and potions being stored under the bathroom sink. She cleared a drawer and left a couple of check shirts and hoodies inside that Ellie could grab herself if she were cold.

‘Jeez, Jack this is amazing, thank you, I can easily dress myself now. Nick has been great, amazing actually but personal space and all that’, she laughed nervously.

‘Yeah, about that Bishop, I can totally help out more if you’re feeling you know…’

‘Feeling what? She asked confused.

‘You and Nick, spending time…a lot of time… it’ll put all kinds of pressure on those co-worker personal relationship boundaries. Unless that’s where you _want_ to go of course?’ She added in a conspiratorial tone.

‘Nick and me? Friends, Jack, just good solid friends’ Ellie laughed dismissively while working very hard to control the flush coursing up her neck.

‘Really, huh?’ Jack replied, scepticism evident in her tone.

‘Ok look, if you had of asked me a few months ago I would have said _maybe_ something might be brewing between us but really he’s just a friend, He gets a little overprotective sometimes, but hey I have three brothers who literally drove up from Oklahoma to quiz my colleagues to find out who I was dating!’ she tried to laugh but had to swallow hard to continue, Qasim’s face floating through her mind.

‘So you’re saying he’s just like one of your brothers?’ Jack quizzed her dubiously

‘Uh huh’ she chirped swallowing the golf ball sized lump in her throat, ‘Nick sees me only as a sister, he told me flat out, we’re both on the same page. And he flirts with everyone, ask Quinn.’

‘Didn’t he sleep with Alex?’

‘Maybe, Ok bad example, but the truth remains, he would flirt with a good-looking corpse’ she shrugged with a half-smile. ‘And come on, I’m not even remotely his type, he’s all night salsa and swooning señoritas and I’m like yay, book 5 is being released on Friday, weekend sorted! Look at the evidence, we’re partners, we hang out, we’ve never made any move on each other, we both date other people…I don’t think of him that way _at all’_

_Ellie just stop talking already!_

Ellie found her mouth going dry; Elena was just a bit too recent, too significant in Nick’s dating history. She took a glug from her water bottle to hide it.

Jack remained quiet just a second too long.

‘Spit it out Jack’.

‘Nothing, its nothing Ellie, I just hadn’t considered you had ‘brother-zoned’ Nick, I mean isn’t that worse than ‘friend-zoned’ in the current social order of thing?’

‘He’s my partner, that’s it, sorry to crush your romantic fantasies’ Ellie replied airily.

‘So, you feel _nothing_ sexual for him? I mean I'll admit, I’m not above noticing he’s kinda hot. How could any woman resist that’ laughed Jack, dripping in good natured sarcasm.

‘Ok he’s gorgeous, I’m not _blind_!’ her hand slapped over her mouth, but she just couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing at her own _faux pas_. It was contagious and both women were soon breathless in a stress releasing full on spasm of unstoppable laughter.

Jack still guffawing added ‘don’t worry I won’t tell him, his ego is already monumental, he’d struggle to get his swollen head in the door if he heard that nugget of information’.

Ellie felt instantly relieved by Jack’s levity, the subject had been just too close to the mark. She had thought about Nick, _frequently_ , in the past months. She knew her feeling were… _complicated_. He irritated her, drove her nuts sometimes, the whole Elena-Richard saga was _very_ fresh in her mind…and she couldn’t even chew over the Boyd text messaging thing without spitting fury!

But Nick Torres also made her laugh more than anyone she knew and he always made her feel…lighter, warmer, _safer_. He had said it though, she was _like a sister_ to him and the more she had looked at their relationship she knew that’s how he saw her, regardless of how she might feel about him. She knew they had become too tangled in each other’s lives, too inclined to have and give their opinions about their respective love-lives, believing each knew what was best for the other. It was perfectly normal to have affectionate feelings when you spent so much time with your co-worker, in fact she thought, it seemed to be her default mode.

 _Nope not going there again,_ two relationships from her colleague gene pool was her lifetime limit.

She casually brushed aside that she had never had any such sentiments about Tim… _well he’s married, right_?

Nick was a good guy, complicated but good. He deserved someone who would love _all_ of him. He had a short fuse but a big heart, a dark past but a soul full of sparkle, he had secrets but he didn’t tell her lies. Ellie had always loved to figure out a puzzle, and Nick was the ultimate conundrum.

Since the attack it was clear, he had no _feelings_ for her; seriously, he hadn’t even joked about her being naked in the bath or that he had sorted through her underwear drawer to find her panties! It hadn’t fazed him one bit. The flirting was plainly his façade, his go-to good natured conversation. It was always playful, never explicit. And they really were chalk and cheese!

They both heard the key in the door and Nick called out.

‘It’s just me ladies! Hot, sweaty, extremely well-toned man in the house! Keep your hands to yourselves, no photos ladies please!’

‘Point proven’ Ellie joked to Sloane as they both laughed.

‘What’s so funny’ asked Nick suspiciously.

‘Oh I was just talking about my nephew, he’s been ‘brother-zoned’ it’s a thing apparently’ piped up Sloane.

 _What was she doing?_ _she really was like a dog with a bone_! Ellie tried to mask her discomfort by taking another sip.

‘Oh poor kid’ Nick intoned sorrowfully shaking his head

‘You’ve heard of it?’ Jack’s curiosity sounded innocent enough.

‘Yeah it’s like an inescapable pit of hell where the girl you’re into destroys all your hopes with warm hugs and where guys in the friendzone go to die’. He sighed dramatically.

‘You seem to know a lot about it Torres, personal experience?’ asked Sloane nonchalantly. Ellie started to choke on her water.

‘ _Me_? Hell, no! The only zone Nicholas Torres is ever in is the erogenous kind’ he snorted, as both Jack and Ellie groaned in incredulity at his smug line. ‘Amanda, my niece,’ he elaborated, ‘totally ripped a guy to shreds with that crap. Felt sorry for the kid, he was obviously into her. Kids huh?!’

‘Indeed’ Sloane remarked with aplomb. ‘Well look guys, I’ll be back tomorrow around the same time, give you a chance go run Nick, and us an opportunity to talk more Ellie. I’ll ask Gibbs about letting you have access to the audio files but you’re _officially_ on sick leave Bishop, you should be resting.’

‘I won’t rest until we have him behind bars’

‘Or dead’ interjected Nick flatly

‘That works for me too’ Ellie smiled at Nick

‘Right I’m away, I’m attending a seminar today, it’s a really interesting topic; confirmation bias and psychological blind spots. One is where someone might interpret and recall information in a way that confirms their prior personal beliefs. The other is when you think you understand and remember what another person says but actually you only really remember what you _think about_ or felt about what they said, and so you can’t see reality.’

‘Sounds like fascinating psycho-babble Sloane’ Nick could barely keep the baffled boredom out of his voice

‘Psycho-babble is kind of my job description Torres, but it helps me read people and situations fairly well.’ She laughed cryptically letting herself out.

Eyecare punctuated their day but they had a routine. Breakfast, eye care, Sloane comes for a visit, Nick goes for a run, eyecare, lunch, nap, eyecare, dinner, bath, chat or listen to TV together on the sofa, eyecare. Nick slept on the sofa, watching soccer down low after he settled her in bed, both knowing a 3am eyecare will have him sitting closely by her side, softly shaking her awake.

Each eyecare treatment was the same and his steady hand gently wiping over her encrusted eyelids with saline soaked gauze, a ‘ready?’, he’d wait for her nod and then he would instil the stinging drops, repeat to the other eye . She now had a Miami Dolphins stress ball to dig her nails in to, a compromise after he noticed the tell-tale half-moon indentations on her palms after the first day of home care. Fresh eye patches and a quick kiss on the forehead, ‘done’. She had no idea why the kissing became part of their routine; it just had. It was swift and chaste each time, signally the end of the infliction of pain, but she knew it was not standard procedure when completing medical treatments and if anyone else had tried it with her she would smash their face in. But it was Nick, and it was just like when her older brother George had kissed her scuffed knee better when she was a pre-schooler and fell over a lot. _Yeah, it was just like that…_

Monday finally came around and she got to get out of the apartment, another military exercise as she and Nick were driven to the hospital, with their security detail in tow, for her review appointments. Initial nervousness had been replaced with some elation. Her skin wounds were granulating well. Although she needed to continue with the eyepatches to protect the healing process, she had been able to see light, colours and outlines with a lot of pain, tears and perseverance.

‘Seven more days of eyepatches and treatments Nick, are you sure you don’t mind, I mean I could probably start doing the drops myself maybe, I’m sure there’s other things you’d rather be doing?’ she added hesitantly. She would never be able to thank him enough for all he was doing for her and was already raking her brain for an appropriate and really meaningful gift that would truly express her gratitude.

‘We made a deal remember? It’s fine B, honestly. Gibbs is sending over files for us both to work on, we’ll be kept busy.’

As Nick opened the door to the apartment Ellie felt a wave of warm, stuffy air hit her face, which after the freezing temperature outside was a welcome paradise.

‘Man, we’ll have to figure out how to turn off the heating in here, hot-blooded guy will melt!’

‘Aww come on Nick, you know I love the heat, its cosy’ she added luxuriantly rolling up on the sofa ‘We have a while before those files get here, we could stream another episode?’ she wheedled.

‘Whatever you want B, when it comes to you, resistance is futile’, he teased as he threw himself on the sofa beside her and handed her a Diet Coke.

‘Did you just quote Star Trek? Wow, my work here is done!’

‘Dear God, a week and I’m talking nerd already! What have you done to me woman!’ he groaned in mock horror. ‘Uh, Ellie, are you feeling ok, have you got a temperature?’ the joking tone instantly replaced with concern as he gingerly felt her forehead.

‘No, why’ she answered in bewilderment.

‘Guess you don’t, just thought your face seems kinda flushed, you sure you’re feeling ok?’

‘I’m fine Nick, episode six’.

Ellie had no idea what time it was, her head ached with a dull hammering that seemed to beep, beep, beep.

She nudged against the weight of Nick leaning heavily against her; he seemed to be breathing slowly, deeply asleep.

 _He must be shattered with all the broken sleep_. She tried not to wake him, snuggled up beside his muscular shoulder and drifted off again.

Beep, beep, beep, _is that an alarm?_

Buzz, buzz, buzz _that’s my phone I should answer that…_

And then hammering, thumping…

‘Bishop, Torres! Open the god damn door!!’

 _Gibbs_ … her mind sluggishly registered a loud crash.

Words and phrases filtered through her consciousness.

‘Open the windows now… find the gas main, shut it down. Bishop, are you ok? McGee, call for paramedics... carbon monoxide…’

 _Carbon monoxide? Ohh…_ it suddenly all made sense; her flushed face, the headache, Nick so soundly asleep…

‘Nick, is Nick ok?’ her voice was croaky, her throat parched and her head pounded.

‘Yeah he will be’ Gibbs answered as he hauled her over to the window blasting in bitter wintery air.

A whirlwind of activity over the next two hours saw them both receiving O2 from the paramedics to counteract the carbon monoxide poisoning caused by faulty central heating vents.

Rule 39: Gibbs did not believe in coincidences; someone had tampered with the ventilation ducts.

They were given an hour to pack what they needed while McGee updated them on the case. They still had a mole, and whoever it was still had access to the NCIS system. Kasie had found nothing; no fingerprints, no DNA and the Joe’s gun was untraceable. A professional. Someone with skill had accessed the HR personnel files with a disguised inhouse log in and now had Ellie’s address. Worse they knew Ellie’s schedule; while they and her minders were at the hospital her heating was rigged; another couple of hours in her apartment, breathing in that gas, would have been fatal for her and Nick.

Joe was still trying to stop her from identifying him, he had almost succeeded.

So here she was, in a huge, cold, unfamiliar house that she had no idea how to navigate that creaked and moaned with every breeze and she could only hope that delicate tap-tapping she could hear on her thinly-paned bedroom window was the branches of a tree blowing about in the blustery weather. God this place was the stuff of horror movies, a couple of miles off the highway, up a potholed winding lane, no near neighbours, no passing traffic. She was a country girl and used to rural noises, chattering wildlife, rustling leaves, howling weather but this house spooked her. It was probably lovely in the summertime but right now, nope not so much.

Her bed was huge and antique, a four poster by the feel of it, and it smelled of stale beeswax, old wood, fusty canopy curtains and had a firm mattress so cold she first thought the bedding was damp.

Nick had walked her to her room after Mc Gee had left having finished setting up a comprehensive CCTV system with motion sensors. Gibbs said he would be securing the perimeter of the property, he seemed perfectly content to patrol all night with his flask of fresh coffee, Ellie wondered did he ever actually sleep. Another team of trusted agents were due at 0600. Protection detail would continue 24/7 until they caught Joe.

 _Caught or killed,_ she wasn’t fussy anymore.

Methodically she had counted the steps from her bed to the toilet in the ensuite; at least she could try to navigate that essential trip herself. The rest of the house was a creaky, leaky old mystery to her but Nick had promised to help her mentally plot out the whole place in the morning.

She knew she was safe but the events of the day had heightened her anxiety and she was bone-weary exhausted. Regardless, she knew there was no way she would get back to sleep after her nightmare. And she was cold. And Nick was right there.

‘Ah Nick, idea?’ she broached the subject carefully. Without being able to see his face, she struggled to interpret his thoughts now. Those eyes of his could flit between ten emotions in a nanosecond and she knew he was too good at moderating his tone of voice to mask his real sentiments. She ploughed on anyway. ‘You can say no but I was thinking, as you’re soo hot and I’m freezing plus a nervous wreck with all the weird sounds this house manages to make, would you sleep here, with me, in the bed I mean, its plenty big…’ her voice petered out as there was a long silent pause filled by …nothing!

‘Nick?’

 _God this is awkward_.

‘No I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have asked-‘

‘Ellie its fine, yes, of course’ he blurted over her attempted a dignified retreat. ‘Let me, uh, just get my phone and yeah, this room is colder than downstairs, I'll grab my sweatpants and the extra blanket I have’.

‘Ok’ she chirped, her insides writhing.

_Too sprightly Ellie!_

‘Ok, just give me a minute I'll be right back’ he replied calmly

She blurted out a sound like ‘grool’, an incomprehensible a mix of good, great and cool.

_Six languages and that the best you can come up with?_

She felt awkward and elated at the same time but she spoke to herself firmly. _This is just ‘bunk buddies’, hypothermia survival 101, close protection detail, ok that one might be taking it a little bit too literal._ After a few minutes she heard his light footsteps jog up the creaky staircase,

‘I thought we could do your eye treatment now? It’s nearly half one, a little early but then you can sleep right through?’ he reasoned.

‘Perfect Nick, thanks’ she replied much more in control of her vocabulary.

‘I uh, left a note for Gibbs beside the coffee pot, told him I was keeping you company, and uh, I built up the fire, if we leave the bedroom door open the heat will rise up through the house a little maybe.’

Gibbs, oh god, Nick thought Gibbs might think we were getting… _busy._

 _That’s why he wanted the open door, no funny business._ She felt like a teen sneaking her boyfriend in and being caught by her dad! _This was a bad idea!_ But she was just too cold to worry about it.

‘Great idea, I’d say this old house could do with a week of full blast heating to shake off that abandoned feeling, the cold is in the walls’.

‘It’s actually a nice house B, old-fashioned but solid, you know, just needs work and a fulltime family. So' his tone suddenly serious, 'if I’m going to sleep with you, I have to ask you the big question’ he paused dramatically setting her heart racing.

‘Huh?’ she asked apprehensively.

‘Left or right side of the bed?’ he added playfully

‘I'll have the warm side! Honestly, I don’t mind’ she chuckled, relaxing somewhat that it wasn’t any other question that she had galloping through her mind.

‘Well then I'll take the side nearest the door’. A defensive position, he was still trying to protect her. She heard him place his phone on the wooden bedside locker, followed by the metallic clunk of his handgun right beside it

‘Ok you all set?’ he asked as she unconsciously adjusted her head on the pillow. ‘Maybe tomorrow if the weather’s better we can take a stroll around the grounds? Gibbs said there’s a wooded area with a stream, might be nice for you to listen to the water for a while, I know you like outdoors and nature and that kind of thing’ He chatted to her calmly as he instilled the medicated drops mechanically. ‘All done’ he finished with his usual quick forehead kiss. She felt him pull back the covers on his side of the bed and slip in, bouncing around a bit as he adjusted the pillows to accommodate his semi-reclined position.

‘Ok I’m ready’ he announced comically, ‘snuggle up buttercup!’

He had flung his arm wide so as to allow her to snuggle up along the now fully clothed length of his body and rest her head on his chest. His arm clamped around her and repetitively rubbed her upper arm to generate heat while his chin seemed to nuzzle into her hair.

‘My god woman you are an iceberg, please tell me you have socks on!’

‘Nick, I told you, I am wearing _everything_!’ she muttered through slightly chattering teeth.

‘Well I’m saying a hard no to a sneaky attack by your tiny arctic toe torpedoes, give a man warning of imminent contact, deal?’ he bargained as he tucked the blankets around her with his free arm.

‘Anything you say Nick’, she purred in contented agreement as the bliss of his body heat encircled her.

‘Sleep well Ellie’ he whispered continuing to brush her arm and hold her close.

And she slept.


	5. Bothered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie can cope with many things but the arrival of someone unexpected really bothers her.

That was the night she realised Nick was not and never could be like a brother to her.

Ellie had fallen into her first sleep without fear since the attack. That low-level anxiety which gnawed at the pit of her stomach was replaced with a warm glow of serenity. Snuggled up against him she felt his chest rise and fall against her cheek, heat radiated from him and she felt cocooned in the safety of his comfortable arms. Nick always had a distinctive scent about him, not strong enough to be cologne or aftershave but just enough to pique her curiosity. It was spicy, maybe a hint of cloves she mused, masculine but subtle. He felt like home on Christmas Eve.

As close as she was to him, her body silhouetted against his strong frame, wrapped in his arms, she yearned to get closer, to run her hands across his bronzed skin…

_Too many layers of clothing between us_ she grumbled to herself as she drifted into a deeper sleep.

Somewhere her mind registered their shifted position later in the night. Nick was tightly spooned against her back, his arm snug around her body, his hand draped over her breast, his fingertips buried in her armpit and she realised her own was laid on top of his. She knew he was fast asleep. His breathing was deep and even against her neck, his whole body curled around hers, like a protective shield. It didn’t feel in any way oppressive or confining, and her body unconsciously moved to close what gaps there were between them as her hips shuffled back just a little closer to him. His body responded instinctively in reply, drawing up his knees so their legs were flush against each other and neatly making a seat for her behind tight against his crotch.

That woke her right up.

Her breathing became a little erratic as she waited expectantly, eagerly, for the next movement. Minutes ticked by and nothing shifted, Nick was soundly asleep, and Ellie tried to contain the visceral smouldering low in her abdomen, the urgent craving for him to move …closer.

She didn’t care what way she had rationalised their relationship up to this point, that was all out the window. She knew this wasn’t just being turned on by physical proximity, although her current level of arousal sizzled and snapped like a live wire. She desperately wanted Nick to make love to her, her head flashed with images of their entwined bodies, his hand cupping her cheek as his kiss deepened, their movements loving and synchronised as they finally connected. But more than that, she realised Nick was the only man she ever wanted to do that with, for the rest of her life.

_Because I’m in love with him._

She knew she loved him, had done for a while but she was stuck in hell, a torment of her own making where she herself had coached the finest Don Juan she knew to respect and care for her _like a sister_.

She took a breath and tried to unclench her burning muscles held still for too long in anticipation of activity. She willed her body to melt into a relaxed posture and attempted to sleep. Slowly she began to sink into a doze until she noticed a rising swell pressing against her buttocks.

Nick was still sound asleep she was sure of that, this was just a reflex reaction, a ‘morning glory’…but it wouldn’t take much, just a hip wiggle, leaning back, applying pressure…

_No, not like that._

If she wanted to get Nick it couldn’t be by subterfuge or furtive sexual advances. She didn’t want a fling; he was too important to her, she needed him for the long haul. She didn’t want a semiconscious fumble that he might regret. Her love might not be reciprocated now but she was crystal clear in her goal. She just needed a little time to recover, ditch the victim vibe and pull out the sexy Ellie attitude that she had stored away. She had time; she could wait. She delicately moved herself away from his lap, just a bit of space for modesty. A smile lit her face as she drifted into a slumber filled with hopeful dreams.

Ellie awoke the next morning and noticed two things immediately; first she was on her own and second the room was warm. She shuffled out of the bed and carefully counted out the steps to the bathroom. Washing her hands, she marvelled at the hot water in the tap, already looking forward to a bath later that evening in the huge roll-top, free-standing tub beside her. Drying her hands she heard Nick call her.

‘Ellie, you ok?’ his voice a little apprehensive.

‘Yeah fine Nick, what time is it?’ she squeezed out past a yawn as she retraced her steps and hopped back into the bed.

‘Just after eight, you looked so comfortable I didn’t have the heart to wake you, so I made you breakfast in bed, tah-dah!’

Her stomach rumbled as she picked up the heady aromas of bacon, baked something and coffee. ‘Are there eggs?’ she asked excitedly.

‘Of course, all the Ellie food groups; mushroom omelette, bacon, toast and a blueberry muffin’.

‘You didn’t have to do that Nick, you do so much for me already’

‘Least I can do after spending the night with a lovely lady’ he replied with cheeky bravado. ‘Now, eyecare first, and we’ll have to tackle your facial dressing, but we have all day for that.’

Once she had resettled her pillows after the eye treatment Nick placed the tray carefully on her lap.

‘Ok so eggs 12, bacon 6, toast and muffin on the side at 9 and the coffee in your travel mug I’ll put here on the dresser on your 3’ He always described the placement of her food by the clock, it saved her embarrassment and the risk of scalds through spills.

‘So, I guess someone other than Gibbs stocked the groceries huh?’

‘Yes, thank god, McGee gathered up everything perishable from your apartment and did a huge supermarket shop too. If it had been left to Gibbs, we would probably be surviving on his staple diet of hotdogs and MRE field rations’ they both laughed at the truth of it.

‘It feels warmer?’

‘Yeah, Gibbs fixed the boiler, apparently his old buddy Frank doesn’t use it much wintering in Hawaii. He reckons the electrics are a tad erratic too, he’ll be back tomorrow with spare fuses and a back-up generator just in case. And our new protective detail are here, Chen and Clarke’

‘Matthew Clarke, big guy, reddish blonde?’

‘I think so, southern accent?’

‘Yeah that’s him, such a lovely guy! We worked together for a while on a joint NSA op tracking White supremist terrorist groups. Cool, it’ll be nice to catch up.’

‘Mm-hmm, so he said’ his tone a little flat. ‘Well enjoy your breakfast, here’s one of your fresh clothes bundles and you’re wearing your hoodie. Just holler when you want to come downstairs and we can start orientation class.’

‘Thanks Nick’ she muffled past a mouthful of toast as she heard his footsteps recede on the creaking landing floorboard.

Orientation class proved to be more interesting than it initially sounded. Nick stood behind her, his hand on her hip, the other on her shoulder. His head was just above her shoulder level and he leaned down to talk calmly into her ear. She felt herself flush at the intimacy of their closeness.

‘Ok B, so, my back is at the front door, slap bang in the centre of the house. Straight ahead across the hall is the staircase. There is a circular rug on the floor in the middle of the hall. Let’s walk to that’.

She counted 7 steps.

‘Ok so it’s the same distance again to the first step of the stairs. Once on this mat if you turn right it’s the living room, two sofas and the fireplace. Turn left from this rug and it leads on to dining room, large rectangular table, double doors on the right and that’s the way into the kitchen, it has a breakfast counter with like four high stools. There is a door out to the yard in the kitchen and patio doors that open from the dining room. We’ll walk it all out, let you get a step count and feel for all the furniture, we can move stuff if it’ll make it easier for you to navigate.’

They spent the next couple of hours repetitively walking through the ground floor of the house until Ellie was confident with walking unaided and not crashing into furniture or doorframes. He simplified a depiction of all the other nooks and crannies of the eclectic geography of the house; the narrow back stairway leading from the utility room off the kitchen to the store room on the first floor and on up to the attic, the doors to the basement and the under porch root cellar.

‘And I have a treat for you. I, uh, know you’re feeling tetchy not being able to run off steam but I found something in the garage that might help, Chen helped carry it in, we put it here under the staircase so you won’t trip over it’. He led her by the hand toward the far side of the hallway, allowing her to run her other hand against the spindles of the bannisters.

‘Tah dah!’ he really was a big kid.

‘You’re going to have to give me more info to work with Nick’ as her hand brushed over low level steel bars.

‘It’s a rowing machine! You can sit safely and exercise independently, put your earbuds in and row for miles to the dulcet tones of whatever cowgirl crooner you like’

‘I prefer the more gender-neutral ‘country crooner’ Nick’ she mockingly rebuked him. ‘Thank you’ she added sincerely giving his arm a squeeze and landing a quick peck on his cheek. ‘This is amazing, exactly what I need to blow the cobwebs away’.

‘I’m glad you like it’ he cleared his throat. ‘And now, let’s woolly you up a bit, we’re going outside while lunch is cooking.’

Nick insisted she had a hat and scarf on as well as his windbreaker which he carefully zipped her into. Linked on together they strolled around the lawns that he carefully described to her in detail. Though it was winter she used his words to imagine a verdant and lush summer garden, surrounded by ancient mossy oaks, massive leafy maples and vibrantly coloured shrubberies. Now, the wind whipped against the sensitive healing skin on her face, as her feet snapped twigs and crunched long dead leaves. She could hear the tree boughs overhead cracking and creaking as the blustery wind whistled and whined through their skeletal branches. The world seemed very big right now, it scared her how vulnerable she felt.

‘You getting cold B?’. Of course, Nick would pick up on her mood.

‘Little bit,’ she fudged trying to control the shiver of anxiety pulsing though her.

He started chaffing her hands to draw the heat into her fingers then gathered them together and blew his warm breath onto them. _Jeez could he be more adorable!_

He walked her back to the house and sat her down on the bench in the sheltered porch that wrapped around the house.

‘Gibbs left instructions, we need plenty of firewood, I better get some done before we eat, huh? You want a drink?’

‘Soda please’ maybe a little fizzy, caffeine rush would lighten her mood.

She let him get into a rhythm with the axe before having some fun. ‘You know Nick, this has to be a form of cruelty’.

‘Wait, what?’ he coughed, totally caught off guard

‘See, now this is like the Diet Coke ad of my dreams; cute guy chopping wood, you’re probably shirtless and sweaty’, she teased with a dramatic sigh, ‘pity I’m blind huh’ she laughed out loud as he started to splutter an attempt at a reply. ‘I should say _attempting_ to chop wood, axe get a little off target on you there, Nick?’

‘Its not so easy B’ he managed to pant out as she heard him struggle to pull out the axe that had dug deep into a stubborn timber.

‘Please’ she replied smugly, ‘I could so whoop your ass at a wood splitting race’

‘Well challenge accepted Little Miss Farmgirl. As soon as you get the all clear with those beautiful eyes of yours we’re going chop til we drop, last one to finish splitting their woodpile buys dinner’.

‘Oh, you are so on!’ she laughed confidently.

‘Very sure of your abilities there, B, this will be interesting’ He had gathered up the kindling and pulled her up with his free hand, ‘I like Thai if you’re wondering’.

‘Good to know what you’ll be buying me’ she bantered.

Voices met them in the kitchen

‘Hey guys just refilling the coffee’ Matthew Clarke was as cheerful as ever ‘Ellie good to see you again, it’s been an age. Uh, Chen had to head home, his wife is about to pop out another tiny Chen. Mendez is just taking a call, she’ll be covering.’

‘How have you been Matthew, still working on those racist nutjob crews?’ she asked as Nick went to put the wood in the basket.

‘Yep, more of them than ever these days, any chance of getting you back on the team to crack some cases with those amazing number crunching skills of yours?’ Ellie felt her colour rising. Matthew had always seemed a bit sweet on her, he even asked her out once, but she had to rain check due to work. ‘Here let me help you’ he added politely as he gently helped her sit on a stool at the kitchen counter.

She was still adjusting herself using the arm rests when she noticed Clark’s hands still holding her shoulders, ‘I’m good thanks’ she assured him just as she felt Nick at her other side. She would almost swear she heard a low rumbling growl emanating from Nick, his chest only inches from her. Matthew must have caught it too.

‘I’ll, um, head back out to patrol at the top of the lane. I’ll, um, see you late Ellie.’ he called from the backdoor nervously.

‘Nick what did you just do? That poor guy seemed terrified’ she demanded of her partner.

‘Nothing, I did nothing…’ he defended himself innocently.

‘Nick Torres’ interrupted a purring Hispanic-toned voice. Ellie felt Nick lean away from her and heard them hug and the woman kiss both his cheeks. _Who the hell…?_

‘Gabriella Mendez’ Nick enunciated every syllable in his swaggering pick-up voice.

As they started chatting about old times Ellie had a clear image in her head of the last time she heard the name Gabriella Mendez. She had been sitting at her desk early one morning, a year ago maybe, trying to catch up on reports when Nick strolled out of the lift, with a stunning brunette, legs up to her chin, curves in all the right places, absolutely Nick’s type. They shared a brief but intense kiss and parted ways, she towards the international desks and Nick towards his own.

‘Walk of shame Nick?’ she noticed he was wearing the same clothes as the day before.

‘With Gabriella Mendez, that would be the Stride of Pride Bishop’ he answered with a little arrogant tilt of his head and a knowing smile that once again his antics had caught her attention.

_So, an ex, great, just great!_

After a few minutes Nick included her in their, to her ears, flirty conversation, ‘Gaby, this is my partner Ellie Bishop, do you guys know each other?’

_Only by reputation_ , Ellie yearned to snap back. She was surprised herself at the appearance of a green-eyed dragon currently unfurling itself in the pit of her stomach. It must have woken up due to that cloying perfume ‘Gaby’ obviously doused herself in.

_Ok now I’m just being bitchy._

She was already feeling awkward, underdressed in her sloppy clothes, no warpaint makeup, her unruly hair in a messy bun, not an artistically messy fashionable bun, oh no, she knew it was the windswept, unwashed, slept in type.

‘No, we’ve never met, different circles huh?’ Ellie reckoned that was enough for polite pleasantries.

‘Not so different’ she laughed salaciously; she must have nudged Nick with her hip as he accidently knocked against her. Her green-eyed little dragon hissed.

‘Bishop and I are just about to have some lunch; you’re welcome to join us?’

_Yeah, I could be deadly with a fork_ , Ellie used pure grit to mask her face with a smile.

‘I’m good, thanks, maybe some other time’

_Ok, I might be blind but that was definitely an invitation!_

‘See you later’ Nick chirped with gusto.

Ellie picked at the ham and cheese macaroni bake, one of her mom’s she knew, but her appetite was just gone. She was upset and angry with Mendez, Nick and herself. She puffed out a dejected sigh.

‘Hey, you ok?’ he probed delicately.

‘Eh yeah, I’m just, um, kinda tired maybe.’

‘How about we do eyes and dressing now and then you take a nap’ he sounded his normal, thoughtful self.

Treatments done she rolled up in her bed and tried to gather her thoughts.

_Long haul Ellie, long haul._

The next couple of days were torture.

Gabriella Mendez was everywhere, all the time. She seemed to have caught all the overtime hours of this protection detail, so they had the ‘pleasure’ of her company on almost every shift. Sure, she did the outdoor patrols, but she somehow wheedled her way into the house way more than the other guys she partnered with on duty. Every time Ellie tried to work on the case with Nick, she put her oar in. Worse, Mendez and Nick bantered over the coffee pot, she took breaks with him on the sofa and she could even hear them laughing over her tunes as she rowed away her angst on that damn rowing machine.

Hauling herself off the machine on the second day after an exhausting session, her thigh muscles burning, Ellie decided it was time to hit the bath. She felt her way to the bottom of the stairs determined not to need to pull Nick away from his cosy chat with Mendez. She made it to the third step when she felt Nick’s steady hand on her waist.

‘Bishop! you should have called’.

‘I’m fine Nick, I can manage by myself’ she gently pushed his hand away. She had noticed over the past couple of days that she was ‘Bishop’ again. Her breath caught as she continued, ‘I’m going to go over some more of those audio files in my room’.

‘I’ll be up at ten then to do your eyedrops, are you sure you can manage?’ he asked tentatively.

‘Sure’

Ellie had reassured him the night before that she was warm enough and used to the house noises now. He seemed happy enough to go ahead with her suggestion to continue to watch the game on the TV downstairs. She had not slept well on her own.

Tonight, she was still seething from the snippet of an overheard conversation earlier between Mendez and Clarke. Matthew was asserting doggedly that Ellie and Nick were an item and Gabriella sniggered her musical laugh at him dismissively.

‘Bishop is all bed-socks and chick-lit, the hottest thing about her is her cocoa at night. Nick Torres…’ she actually tutted suggestively, ‘I can personally attest to his tastes with a tale that involves a flaming tequila, a lime and all-night stamina. It’ll be fun riding that rodeo again’ she added languidly.

‘I’m just saying, he seems very protective of her’ Matthew continued stubbornly.

‘Yeah well, Torres seems to like what I’m offering; do you hear him saying no?’

‘You could be kicking at a hornet’s nest. I don’t know Torres, but Bishop is a sweet person, don’t you go looking for green lights where there are none…’ the voices petered off as they moved out of earshot.

Ellie wanted to offer Mendez a one-way ticket to the emergency room.

She managed to get herself in and out of the tub, though she missed having Nick wash her hair. Maybe she would ask him tomorrow night. She crawled on to her bed and started again with the audio. The key to his whole case was there, she knew it.

She jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder and jerked out her earphones

‘Ellie its just me, sorry to spook you, I was just checking on you; the electricity tripped again’.

‘Oh, I didn’t notice’. How would she? She was in darkness all the time anyways. ‘You get it fixed or is it still out?’

‘Fixed, Gaby held a torch for me’ _I bet she fucking did._

‘Great’ she managed. _One punch, that’s all I want_. She felt her hand ball into a fist.

‘So, how’s the translating going, any new leads? I feel like we haven’t talked much today’ he organised the pillows on his side and propped himself sitting up beside her.

_Whose fault is that?_ She knew shouldn’t get angry at Nick, but then again…

As she was sitting in her customary cross-legged position their thighs brushed. She took a deep breath to steady herself before talking.

‘I think Joe has an accomplice in NCIS. Like they’re a team. I don’t think its him directly accessing our information and intel, I reckon his partner does that, legitimately, and that’s why we’re struggling to trace the security breach.’

‘An undercover plant?’

‘More like a convert to his cause. I’m still working on the details, but it’s in here somewhere’. Her brain flicked through all the conversations on the recordings. She was convinced it wasn’t all banal chit-chat. It was worth killing for, the answers had to be staring at her right in the face.

‘I’ll leave you to it’ he casually landed a peck of a kiss the side of her head.

And just like a bee to the honeypot, Nick went back downstairs and Ellie soon picked up the buzzing of animated chatter and raucous laughter.

Ellie shoved her earphones back in, snapped her laptop shut, grabbed her iPod and blasted out her cheesy Girl Power tunes. She rolled her head back and thumped her head against the old wooden headboard with a dull thunk.

Sleep did not come easily that night either.


	6. Bewildered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick wonders how he's messed it all up but maybe not everything is as it seems.

Nick was confused.

_Like what the actual fuck?_

He was also worried.

_Maybe I should call her mom?_

He sat on the sofa, mercifully alone, with his second cold beer in his hand mulling over the past couple of days and Ellie’s drastically changed demeanour. What the hell had happened?

Monday was intense; the hospital appointment, the anxiety but hey, that had brought some good news, right? The carbon monoxide poisoning incident boiled his blood, that bastard Joe had gotten too close. Nick’s fault: he had let Ellie down, again. He had one job, to keep her safe and _I had literally fallen asleep on the job._

But Ellie didn’t seem to blame him for that.

His mind drifted as it did most days since, most waking…and sleeping hours, to Monday night. She wasn’t pissed off with him then. Everything had been fine, great, _fantastic_ between them.

Night-time eye treatments were bad enough, to see her beautiful face change from a peaceful slumber to a hard, armoured expression in expectation of the next assault of pain, at _his_ touch, upset him to his core but now he worried about her nightmares too. Her piercing screams ricocheted around the empty house and had him bolting up the stairs two at a time, gun in hand, just in case.

And then she had touched his thigh, accidentally the first time sure, but intentionally the next.

His body had responded, of course it had. Only wearing his t-shirt and boxers it was _very_ obvious just how measurably he had reacted. He chastised himself for thinking he was lucky she couldn’t see the effect her fleeting touch had on him. He had to control himself better, he was a grown man for god’s sake. He resorted to mentally reciting his childhood prayers in Spanish to try to ‘deescalate’ the problem.

And he almost had himself righted when she hit him with ‘will you sleep with me?’ Too stunned to answer her immediately, his brain exploding with a rapid montage of all his secret daydreams, so lost in his moment she almost changed her mind. He rapidly got his shit together.

 _Its…cool, I’m cool, I can do this_.

His body had stubbornly responded again, ok his little daydreams almost all had some fairly passionate finales. Willing his brain to engage in a meaningful way, he made his excuses to head downstairs to collect his thoughts. More clothes were a definite necessity. As he walked to the sofa to retrieve his sweatpants and top, he remembered Gibbs should be back to replenish his coffee any time now.

Shit, this was not the ‘standing to attention’ salute his boss would appreciate. He hastily pulled on the joggers.

Gibbs would also not appreciate Nick making any inappropriate or otherwise advances on Bishop.

_No ‘Dad’ would not approve._

Nick decided honesty was the best policy. He hastily scribbled a note to Gibbs letting him know he was with Ellie, in a comfort and protective capacity only. He suddenly remembered his sister’s house rule for Amanda, she could have friends that were boys up to her bedroom, as long as the door was left open. ‘Privacy is the enemy of parenting’ according to Lucia. As he built up the fire, he hoped Gibbs would see nothing in his two agents co-sleeping for the night with their door wide open.

_As long as I don’t get the Gibbs death stare; he’d read me like a comic book and have me reassigned and on a transporter to Guam before the sun was up._

Nick had covered his nerves once back in Ellie’s room with his usual clowning about. She laughed lightly, oblivious to his mounting anxiety that he wouldn’t be able to control his front and centre. She was freezing though, even the tip of her nose was glowing red and icy cold. Concern for her wellbeing overtook his more erotic thoughts. She snuggled alongside him, cradled in his arms and he tried his best to warm her up. He couldn’t help but inhale the subtle, sweet fragrance of her hair. He had noticed she changed shampoos with her mood. This was his favourite, honey with a hint of vanilla. He swallowed quietly as his mouth went dry thinking about their bath-time routine.

She seemed to relax and drift off immediately. He watched the tightness of worry and lingering discomfort ebb away from her features and he marvelled at how pretty she was, even with all the gauze dressings and the angry blotchiness still marring her left cheek. He knew his top would be ruined with the greasy residue of her medicated cream that rubbed off a little as she snuggled her cheek closer over his heart.

He didn’t care. This was a perfect moment; it was indelibly stained in his memory.

He woke in the gloom of a wintery dawn, warm and relaxed after the best sleep he’d had in weeks. It only took a couple of seconds for panic to set in.

Ellie’s back was curled up against his chest, his arm lay against her delicate ribcage and his hand held a palmful of her breast while her arm draped over his, their fingers intertwined, locking him in his position. Added to this her backside was nudged firmly against his up bright and early, very swollen soldier. Panic registered for two reasons; one, he knew he wasn’t completely at full mast…yet. Fear bubbled in his gut that, two, Ellie would wake due to being impaled when he was _and_ realise he also had a firm grip on her breast. There would be no way to camouflage it.

Ellie was still asleep, he could execute some covert, stealth, retreat manoeuvres, sure he could.

He just didn’t want to.

_She’s obviously comfortable, why wake her right?_

After what seemed like an age, he felt Ellie adjust herself a little, just enough to give his boy room do his own thing without skewering her. But she stayed locked in his arms, he could feel her slow, steady breaths, her beating heart on his palm. Chancing his luck, he softly kissed the back of her head. He fell back into a doze, thinking that _sleeping_ with Ellie was the most intimate experience of his life.

Maybe an hour later he heard quiet voices downstairs, one was Gibbs for sure. He gently feigned a yawn and slowly disentangled himself from Ellie. She hummed a little in complaint but snuggled into her pillow and drifted off again. He gently tucked the blankets around her to keep the heat in. On quick inspection, his body had resumed normal position and so he made his way downstairs.

‘Hey Boss’ he yawned, rubbing his face with both hands, ‘I heard voices’.

Gibbs was expertly rebuilding the fire from the smouldering cinders; he gave Nick a piercing look over his shoulder.

_Oh god, here it comes!_

‘You look better Torres. How’s Bishop?’

‘She’s um, still asleep, nightmares are a new thing’ he massaged the back of his neck nervously… _here it comes, full double-barrel._

‘Chen and Clarke are on first duty surveillance of the house and road entrance. They’re in the kitchen now. I got the boiler cranked up, don’t try to turn it off though, it’ll die again. Chop more wood just in case. And the circuit board keeps tripping, don’t overload the sockets, especially in the kitchen. I’ll check in later’.

‘That’s it?’

‘That’s it, Torres, you expecting something else?’

‘Uh, I um, no sir, nope, I’m good’ he stammered out.

Gibbs just smirked, or maybe it was a grimace, you never knew with him.

After Gibbs left, Nick headed into the kitchen hoping the coffee pot would be full. He greeted the two agents assigned to them for the day. Danny Chen he knew, he had worked with him on a couple of drug busts, his nice-guy image belied his ruthlessness in the field. Clarke, he didn’t know. As Nick took a slug from his first coffee of the day his eyes glazed over as the guy talked and talked in his southern drawl. It was only when he picked up that he was actually talking about Ellie that Nick started to pay attention.

‘So you worked with her for a couple of months, huh?’ Nick eyed up the other man; tall, broad-shouldered, neat flaxen hair, smiley, shirt and jumper combo, librarian vibe going on.

Totally Ellie’s type.

‘Yeah, we worked quite closely…’ _blah blah blah_ ‘hung out a lot…’ _whatever_ ‘such a sweet person… awful what happened, she was so pretty’. Nick felt his heckles rise.

‘She’s still beautiful Clarke’ he growled past gritted teeth, slamming his mug down on the counter-top so hard some sloshed on his hand but he barely noticed the burn.

‘Of course, yeah sorry, that came out all wrong’ Clarke assured him whilst backing away slowly, ‘Well we better get started, huh?’ he nudged Chen with his elbow as he nodded towards the back door.

When the guys left to do their rounds of the sprawling property, Nick’s thunderous face gradually relaxed as he cooked up some breakfast for Ellie.

There was no awkwardness between them as they spent the morning mapping out the house and walking the gardens together. She must have slept right through their snuggle-fest; he wasn’t exactly sure if he was glad or disappointed by that.

Nick was put on the back foot though when Ellie’s vulnerable moment in the garden turned to playful teasing minutes later.

_This woman will give me whiplash ping-ponging between emotions!_

It was joyous to hear her laugh, even if it was at his expense and would gladly strip off his top right there and then if chopping wood was her turn on.

 _God, I hope she’s not into that plaid shirt thing too_. He has visions of himself dressing like a lumberjack just to impress her. He shook head, ridding himself of the ridiculous image and instead congratulated himself on wangling a wood cutting wager. His competitive side worried she would beat him, Ellie never ceased to surprise him with her obscure skillset but either way he was a winner; he got a dinner date with Ellie.

Walking back into the house he couldn’t help but beam. It had been a good day so far, he’d even got a kiss, _peck Torres, a peck_ , for the rower. Little by little maybe Ellie would think of him differently. Maybe he could prove to her he was worth taking a chance on?

And then he had fucked up.

After stacking the logs in the basket beside the fireplace he had strolled back to the kitchen only to find Clarke man-handling Ellie, sure he covered it as ‘helping’ her to her seat but he had seen the guy’s eyes ogle her and even she noticed his patty-fingers on her shoulders. Nick saw red and left the other man in no doubt of where the line was and what would happen if he crossed it again. He hadn’t uttered a word but, of course, Ellie read his body language. She usually could.

‘Nick what did you just do, that poor guy seemed terrified’ she demanded of him.

His answer obviously did not wash with her, oh no, she was off with him for the rest of the day.

Fuck she’d been off with him ever since then.

Ok so maybe he had acted a little ‘overprotective’, _again_ , but surely that was no reason for blowing him off entirely. Clarke seemed to be avoiding the house now altogether, he was probably getting the blame for that. Nick would have liked to catch up with Chen, but he was now on leave. He was lucky he could at least chew the fat with Mendez. Sure, they had spent a fun-filled night together a while back, but that itch had been scratched. They mostly talked about the other team members of the joint task force they had worked on together and about soccer. Having spent a couple of years in Spain at the Rota Naval Station she was as crazy about the European Champions League and La Liga as he was, though she supported Real Madrid and he was all over FC Barcelona.

Nick knew things were running deep with Ellie when she seemed off her food. Two meals in a row she had just pushed her usual favourites around her plate. There was nothing wrong with the food, Gaby had dinner with them and said it was delicious. He watched Ellie carefully in case this slump was maybe a brewing infection or as Sloane had warned him on the phone, the beginning of a depression caused by the stress of the attack and her injuries.

That night he had gone upstairs with her. Maybe she would talk to him, maybe he would be invited to her bed again. But no, he had totally screwed up their fledgeling closeness.

She was ‘ _fine’_. God, he hated that word!

Yesterday the same. Silence or short answers the whole day. Even when he checked on her after the blackout, he could tell she had taken a bath without his help and then she had made it clear he was interrupting her work. She insisted on managing by herself, and _today_ she had even started using a broom handle like a cane to navigate around the house just so she didn’t have to link onto him.

 _Shit, I didn’t realise Clarke had meant_ that _much to her._

She’d never even mentioned him before. Maybe he should apologise to her…even to Clarke if that would make her happier. Nick had even gotten snappy with Mendez. She was just a bit too perky at the moment, every time he turned around, she was there, asking about the case, the team. It was tiring; their banter which was fun at first now just irritated him. He was glad she was off duty tonight. He missed Ellie.

Nick took a long gulp of his beer. He would talk to her, tonight, this had gone on too long now. If he had to apologise to Clarke, so be it, he’d eat humble pie if it got her appetite back. She was looking too pale and she must have rowed halfway to Ireland over the past couple of days.

Seriously, enough.

As if she had heard him, there she was heading down the stairs back to the rowing machine, earbuds already blasting out 90’s pop tunes. He heard the Velcro peel as she secured her feet in the pedals and off she went again; whirl, slide, whirl and slide. He’d let her finish then they’d talk this out. Properly.

His phone rang, Gibbs.

‘Torres’ snapped his boss, he sounded furious. ‘Tell Bishop we have an address, her lead paid off’

‘What lead?’

‘Maybe you should talk to your partner who's been actually working the case’

‘On it Boss’, he shot out.

Gibbs had already hung up

_What the fuck was going on?_

He strode over to Ellie and tapped her on the shoulder. She let go of the pull rope and it cracked back in place loudly. She slowly pulled out her earbuds.

‘Were you going to tell me something about the case, Bishop?’ he asked acidly.

She undid the straps over her feet and hauled herself out of the rower. His fingers itched to help her up but he was hopping mad.

‘Well, _if_ you’re interested, I figured out that the original Russian audio between the mole, who we now know to be Joe, and the asset mentioned that he had got a parking ticket while on duty at Greenway Park. Since we have the date of the recordings, I asked Gibbs to search for anyone who got a ticket on that street on 9th September. The ticket would have a plate number, that would give us a name and address. He must have got a hit. Gibbs will have Joe picked up and case closed.’ She reeled it off deadpan like reciting a report.

‘And you couldn’t have talked to me about this, brought me up to speed?’ Nick asked pointedly.

She stayed quiet.

‘Jesus Bishop, I thought we were partners, I had to get my nuts chewed off by Gibbs to find this out?’

‘Did he have to bump Mendez off your dick to do it?’ She spat out with venomous sarcasm.

‘ _What_?’ he was flabbergasted, he had never, ever, heard Ellie use such crude language and then it hit him like a tsunami.

‘Are you _jealous_ , of _Gabriella_? Is _that_ what the past couple of days have been all about?’ he sputtered in incredulity.

Ellie reached for her broom handle walking aid and started back towards the stairs.

‘Ellie, nothing is going on between myself and Mendez, _nothing_ ’ he assured her emphatically.

‘Sure Nick, whatever’.

‘No, not _whatever_ , it’s the truth’

‘So, you’ve never slept her, huh?’

‘You know I have’

‘Well, according to _her_ you’re game on for repeating your all greatest hits together, have fun!’ her voice dripping in scorn.

‘Well that’s a lie, I have _no_ interest in her like that’ he spat out.

‘And the past few days the laughing, the joking, the innuendo, that wasn’t foreplay?’ her voice had risen an octave or more,

‘ _Foreplay_?’ he shouted incredulously, ‘Ellie you’ve got this all wrong, she’s just not my type, ok?’ he rubbed his hands harshly, over his face, shaking his head in disbelief at Ellie’s interpretation of his and Mendez’s banter.

‘Please, she is like the epitome of your type, let’s see there’s been Elena, Marina, Isabella, Camile or was it Camilla…?’ she hit back spitefully listing his exes out on her fingers.

He was getting angrier by the second, she was right, Gaby was exactly his type, _was_. Past tense. Now all he wanted was Ellie but he had spent two days beating himself up thinking she was annoyed with him over the Clarke thing. He couldn’t let that go.

‘What about you and Clarke, did you sleep with him?’

‘ _What_? What has that got to do-,’

‘Well, he’s your _type,_ isn’t he? You have a past too Ellie, looks like we both kept count! Let’s see there’s Clarke, Richard, Boyd, Jake, ok Qasim was the odd one out huh, but your type definitely seems to be the tall, blonde, brainiac, totally square, muscles dudes. You know, you and Joe should just get it on together and have little blonde action-figure babies.’

His mouth snapped shut, _oh shit._

His arms that had been wildly gesticulating during his rant dropped to his side. _What the fuck Torres!_

Her face had drained to an unhealthy pallid tone, maybe she would faint?

_Nope._

He noticed her hand gripped her broom so tight he could see the white of her knuckles under her stretched skin. She tilted her head up, clenched her jaw and took a deep breath.

‘Bishop, Ellie I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said any of that-,’ he took a step closer to her.

‘Get out of my way Torres’ she whispered in a controlled voice.

‘Please Ellie, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean-,’ he tried to touch her arm, but she tore it away.

‘Nicholas Torres, put your hand on me again and so help me, I will bust you up like a piñata’

‘Look, I’m sorry I was completely out of -,’

‘Not. Another. Word’ she walked up the stairs head high, back stiff with hurt or temper he couldn’t tell. He heard her door close softly.

Not temper.

He would have preferred temper.

He paced back and forth across the hallway debating with himself whether to go up and try talking to her again. He was still horrified she had thought he was interested in Mendez. He tried to think back over the past few days. Sure, Gaby was suggestive and a bit risqué at times, but _he_ hadn’t said or done anything to give Ellie ideas, had he?

He threw some more wood on the fire with more force than was strictly necessary sending glowing spits and sparks up the chimney. He switched on the TV and pretended to watch whatever mindless comedy show was on another repeat. He finished off his beer and grabbed another from the fridge. No, he couldn’t sit still, he was bursting with pent up frustration. Why the fuck would he say such nasty things to her. He balled up his fists desperately wanting to punch something.

Fuck it, he marched over to the rowing machine and cranked up the tension dial. After an hour of uninterrupted sculling, his shoulder muscles were sore and his heart ached. He grabbed a quick cold shower in the tiny bathroom off the utility, still berating himself and his runaway mouth even as he pulled on fresh clothes from the laundry pile.

Once back in the living room he threw himself on the sofa, his head lolling back over the armrest, staring at the ceiling. The case was almost closed, Ellie would want to go home, by herself and now they weren’t even talking. He had so fucked up but he knew drinking away his frustration would not help. He gathered up his empty bottles, hauled his ass across the hall and flipped the light switch in the kitchen.

Blackout, again.

Great, no TV now either. This damn house was just trying to provoke him. The whole house was out, only the glow from the fireplace guided him back to the lounge. He’d have to fix the fuse again. He was just about to head to the cupboard to get the torch when he heard a thump and crash upstairs.

 _Ellie._ A wave of panic hit him and he clambered up the pitch dark stairs and burst into her room. He heard a ‘Ow’ from the bathroom, He pushed his way in blindly, the door dragging bits of ceramic in its wake.

‘Ellie are you ok, are you hurt?’

‘Nick!’ she shrieked, ‘what the f- !’

‘Are you hurt? What happened?’ he demanded over her screech.

He was already flailing his arms around to find her; he could hear her moving near the bath.

‘I’m up’ she puffed with effort.

His hand connected with her body and he immediately started running his hands over her head, her skin, checking her over to assess for injury. Then it dawned on him.

‘You’re naked’, he whipped his hand away from the roundness of her buttock he had been frisking for damage.

‘Wow, are you a detective?’ she answered sarcastically.

_Nope, still not forgiven._

‘The power is out, it’s pitch black. I heard a crash…’ he explained dejectedly.

‘I slipped getting out of the tub, landed on my butt. I think I knocked over shampoo bottles and the plant pot, something smashed. I’m fine, thanks for your concern’ her voice was tight, emotionless but he could hear a slight quiver that she was trying to control.

‘You’re shivering’

‘I’m cold, I didn’t dry off yet.’

Nick felt his hip was against the sink unit; he knew there was a towel rail alongside. He grabbed a fresh towel and draped it around her shaking body, pulling her nearer. He moved a step closer to her, their chests almost touching as he slowly rubbed his hands across her shoulder blades to warm her up. He heard her sniff.

_Christ, is she crying?_

His chin hit his chest and remorse gnawed at his guts. He felt sick.

‘Ellie, please, let me say sorry’ he pleaded with her.

‘It’s ok Nick, it doesn’t matter’, she mumbled with a subdued sniff. Her shoulders were hunched up around her ears; her arms crossed, pulling the towel tight around herself.

‘It does matter, I hurt you. I don’t ever want to be the one who hurts you. I didn’t realise that my talking with Mendez would upset you. But that’s all it was B, talking’.

He took a deep breath

_Now or never Torres._

‘I know I’m not good enough for you and you don’t think of me like those guys you like to date, I lashed out at you because you always seem to go for the exact opposite of…’

‘Of what?’

‘Of _me,_ Ellie’, he murmured with a shrug of his shoulders. He could hear the vulnerability in his own voice. ‘I wanted you to be interested in _me_ ’. His shoulders slumped, his hands dropped limply to her waist, head hanging in defeat.

‘So, when you were said you felt ‘overprotective’ of me when I dated …?’

‘I lied. I was gut-twisting, wall thumping jealous of your dates’.

‘And when you said I like a sister to you?’ she questioned in a bare whisper.

‘I lied, again. Ellie, you are …everything to me’

‘That’s two lies Nick, three strikes and you’re out.’ All he heard was disappointment in her voice.

‘From now on, you will hear nothing but the truth from me, I promise.’

‘What is it you want Nick?’ her voice was doleful; he felt her pulling the towel tighter around herself.

‘The other night, I fell asleep and woke up with you in my arms. I want that. For the rest of my life, I want that.’ He took a shaky breath, ‘I love you, Ellie’.

He had said it now. He felt relieved that he had finally said what he had caged in his heart of months, but as the seconds slipped by, her silence, fear constricted his chest.

_You said too much, Torres!_

Almost imperceptibly she moved ever so slightly closer, her naked chest brushed his shirt, sending his heart racing. She gently placed her trembling hands on his cheeks, cradling his face. She was so close; their breath mingled and he dropped his head to meet her forehead, his eyes squeezed shut in the darkness, nervous tension coursing through his body. He felt her thumbs caress his cheeks and leaning in she placed a delicate kiss on his lips.

‘I want that too Nick. I love you.’

His heart was jack-hammering in his chest as it dawned on him that this was really, finally, happening. Ellie Bishop was standing, naked, in front of him, and she loved him too. His hands splayed over her hips pulling her flush against his body and his lips hungrily sought out hers again. As the kiss deepened, her hand found its way to the base of his head, combing through the short hair there, urging his head closer. The towel slipped to the floor and he ran his hands up her back, under her cascade of hair, twisting a handful around his fist to gently pull her head back, exposing her neck. She purred as his lips tracked their way from her ear to her collarbone and that noise did to him as it had before, eliciting a south of the border response that there was _absolutely_ no possible way he could control or hide. Ellie obviously noticed his swelling boxer region; he felt a little knowing smile light her lips as they continued to discover each other’s mouths. She leaned the weight of her body against his mid-section and dropped her hands to his hips, fingers pulling his shirt up away from his waistband. He took an involuntary gasp as her chilled hands clawed his skin searching for purchase, pulling him tighter to her body. When her fingertips dipped lower into his boxers and grabbed his buttocks every rational thought evaporated. As his own hands slid to her backside he felt her skin was goose-bumped and trembling.

‘Ellie, fuck, you’re freezing!’ he chastised himself. He tried to reach for another towel but she had other ideas. She casually coiled her arms around his neck, lifted herself and wrapped her legs around his waist. Shifting her weight a little to support her better he wondered what was best to do. Making out, incredible as it was, would not keep her warm, but he didn’t want to push his luck.

Luckily Ellie made the decision for him

‘Nick?’

‘Yeah?’ he panted between kisses.

‘Bed. Strip. Now’

_Mind blown._

The room was pitch dark but he knew the bed was too large to miss. He slowly made his way out of the bathroom, across the room; one hand splayed over her buttock another against her lower back. Precious cargo, he would _not_ fall. He didn’t even grumble as his shins grazed the heavy bed-frame. Bending at the middle he placed her back gently on the bed but her legs stayed stubbornly wrapped around his waist, urging him forward, as her hands grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Ellie leaned up and laid hungry kisses on his chest. Not happy with his state of dress her toes dexterously slipped into his waistband and began to drag his sweatpants down. He leaned back off her and hastily stood out of them and his boxers.

Now they were both naked.

‘I wish I could see you’ he whispered running his hand from her cheek, along her neck over her pert breast across her abdomen to her hip, his thumb sweeping over the delicate area at the top of her thigh.

‘You’re in my world now Torres’, she laughed a little nervously, ‘you’ll have to feel your way’. As if to accentuate her point she took his other hand and laid it palm down over her breast.

Being with Ellie, like this; the intimacy, the familiarity and the novelty of the sensation as their bodies moved over and against one another, was nothing like anything he had ever imagined. Their bodies just fit together, it just felt right. All the same at the decisive moment he hesitated, braced above her, still wondering how to be sure this is what she wanted in the darkness of the room.

‘Ellie we don’t have to do this now, if you want to wait…?’

 _Please god she doesn’t_ …

‘We’ve wasted enough time Nick’ her palm cupped his cheek and she ran her thumb over his lower lip. She pulled him into a deeper kiss as he finally shared himself completely with Ellie. 

After, he held her tight in his arms; his chest spooned again behind her back, hand palming her breast, fingers entwined. He was exhausted but too wired to sleep. He didn’t want to miss a single second of this night. Ellie wasn’t asleep either. She playfully doodled shapes on his forearm with her fingertips, teasing him for a second round with her happy purring. While pondering this unique ‘Ellie hum’ he noticed another rumbling sound, one he was frequently acquainted with.

‘Ellie you must be starving, you ate hardly anything today’

‘Um-hum, a bit’ she crooned snuggling closer still, rubbing against his lap deliberately.

A low growl escaped him, _round two it is!_

 _‘_ Food first, then after…’ he nibbled on her exposed earlobe.

‘Awww, don’t be long Nick’ she grumbled as he sat at the side of the bed, eventually finding his sweatpants and pulling them on. He had no idea where his shirt was. Shrugging his shoulders he slipped his hand under the sheets and gripped her thigh playfully, earning himself an impatient moan. Bending over he kissed her shoulder.

‘I'll have to fix the circuit board first, and then I'll make us a sandwich’.

‘And can you bring up-

‘Chocolate, yes Ellie I will bring you chocolate’ he laughed stealing another quick kiss.

‘You’re an angel!’ she called out after him.

Downstairs the house was silent, the fire had burnt right down, giving off only the barest glimmer of light and it was cold _._

 _Boiler must have gone out too, well that can wait till tomorrow!_ He grinned as he thought of more pleasant ways he and Ellie could generate heat together.

He added more logs to the fire, almost smothering the low glimmer it had been emitting. It would flare up and be toasty soon enough. He spotted his boots and pulled them on, grabbed his holster and swung his arms through, snatched up his phone to light the way and headed across the hall to the cupboard to get the larger torch he needed to tackle the repair.

Standing up, torch in hand, he looked at his vibrating mobile.

A Gibbs text lit up the screen.

_TORRES #44_

He never saw it coming.

The silent gunshot ripped through his body, hurling him to the floor.

His last thought was of Ellie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I'm a total virgin to writing 'those' kinds of scenes.  
> Hope it's ok!?
> 
> Oh and the next chapter will be the last of this tale...


	7. Badass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie needs to find a way to save herself and Nick.

‘You’re an angel’ Ellie called after Nick.

She stretched in the bed that now smelled of him, her body in a relaxed, luxurious stupor and couldn’t help but beam with happiness at how the evening had turned out. Even basking, lazily, in the afterglow of finally being with Nick, the hum of anticipation vibrating and tingling low in her abdomen, her brain, like always, never stopped ticking over, on the backburner sure, but tick, ticking away.

‘You’re an angel… _angel_?’ she muttered to herself. It still bugged her. She had heard that or something like that on the tape. Like a dog with a bone, unable to rest till she solved a puzzle she sat up, tucked the sheets around her naked body and grabbed her phone. She was very proficient at using the voice control apps and soon was re-listening for the umpteenth time to the recording she wanted.

She thought back to her fraught conversation on the phone with Gibbs earlier that evening. He had guessed something was up with her. She always rambled when she was upset or nervous. In an effort to divert his attention she had talked and talked about her ideas about the case. He had let her prattle on through her thoughts knowing that brainstorming was the best route to her actually hitting her target. She had explained that she thought everything about the case was in the recordings; the recipes gave away Joe’s origin and the weapons deal, the bitching about the parking ticket could finally identify him but she was sure there was more. The affair: when she started rambling on about that Gibbs had stopped her.

‘Bishop, you’re talking in Russian again’

‘Oh sorry, just bouncing ideas about. In the recordings Joe calls a woman on the phone, ‘angel’ or ‘archangel’ maybe its _ark_ , like Noah’s Ark maybe that’s a code for a naval vessel…?’

‘Bishop, could you maybe use Torres as a sounding board and get back to me when you have something definite,’ in a strained but tolerant voice. ‘where is he?’

‘Ah, downstairs I guess’ she answered glumly.

‘Doing what?’ ok now he sounded pissed off.

‘He’s um, with Mendez…probably…’ Crap, even to her ears that sounded like he was skiving. Nick would not be happy she had thrown him under the Gibbs bus, but she was too angry at him to save his ass.

A long silence

‘I’ll call when McGee has a hit on the parking ticket. Bishop, good work.’

She replayed the tape again, taking in each individual word. Joe and the asset gossiping about his affair, no relationship, with ‘his angel’, then later Joe talking to an unknown contact, some very salacious dirty talk, that even after what she had just been doing with Nick brought a blush to her face. What poked her inquisitiveness was that mentioned phrase ‘archangel’. Ok that was too much of a coincidence, it must be significant or code for something. She’d ask Nick when he came back with her sandwich. She always figured things out quicker with a full stomach.

She lay back on the bed, buzzing through anything even vaguely mentioning the words. London had an Angel tube station, Christmas angels, guardian angels, Eurhythmics songs; Annie Lenox always sang about angels. Didn’t the British Navy recently decommission HMS Ark Royal? She was dragged out of her rambling thoughts by her phone vibrating with the Gibbs chime.

‘Bishop, good lead. We got a name; Joseph Michaels aka Mikhail Josef Urielov. Vance is working with the CIA on him, he has an alphabet soup of affiliations; Russian SVR, FSB, GRU as well as our own Navy SWCC. He’s not home but we have his place surrounded. You talk with Torres yet?’

_Great, so he did know we hadn’t been talking earlier!_

‘Um, yep we’ve talked, we’re good’ she squirmed in her position feeling all the embarrassment of trying to hide _that_ kind of stuff from the apparently omniscient Gibbs. ‘Do you want to talk to him? He’s just downstairs, electricity tripped again’.

‘How long ago?’

‘Huh?’

‘How long ago did it trip?’

‘Umm, a while I guess, we were …asleep’ she mentally cursed herself, it couldn’t be more than eleven o’clock, Gibbs would never buy that lame excuse.

‘Did your security detail check in since the blackout?’

‘Erm no...?’

 _Oh my god, what if they had, and had heard Nick and I…together._ She felt a flush of mortification burn her cheeks.

‘Bishop’, his voice cracked like a whip. ‘Find a place to hide, now. We’re coming. ETA 30 minutes’.

 _‘What_! Gibbs-?’ she squealed, scrambling out of the sheets.

‘Rule 44 Bishop; quietly, move now!’

 _First things first; hide the women and children_.

Joe was coming for her.

‘What about Nick?’ she whispered, her breathing jagged with sudden fear.

‘I'll let him know, go!’

Clutching the phone to her chest she shuffled out of the bed and onto the cold wooden floor. Her hand landed on fabric, _Nick’s shirt_. She grabbed it and pulled it on, it barely reached her thighs but his scent surrounding her. She breathed it in deeply, steadying her panic and grounding her thoughts. Nick would be ok. He would come get her when it was safe. She mentally plotted out her course and crawled silently toward the bedroom door. It was slightly ajar, and a freezing cold draft nipped at her face as she tried to listen out for any sounds of Nick or anyone else.

Something clattered on the wooden floor downstairs. She held her breath, waiting, longing to hear Nick’s familiar voice swear at himself for clumsiness.

Nothing.

Then a creak. And another. Slow careful footsteps in the direction of the dining room.

Someone was in the house.

Sitting back on her hunkers, she knew she had to move, but all depended on whether Nick had switched the power back on or not... Ellie tore off the eye patches and prepared herself for the assault of pain as her eyes adapted to light.

Nothing.

Everything was still dark. Good. In darkness she had the upper hand

Taking a calming breath stood up and she reached for her improvised cane, the only weapon she had. She turned off her phone and left it on the floor. Any noise or light from it would give her position away. Slowly she slipped out onto the landing knowing she only had to make it to the second next door. She prayed with every fibre of her being that she could avoid the now familiar areas of creaking floorboards. She held her broom handle off the floor, afraid any noise would draw attention to her position. Feeling her way, her hand connected with the doorknob she needed. She slowly and silently entered the dusty storage room.

Ellie now had a choice. The tiny, winding back-staircase in the corner led either up to the gabled roof attic space, or, down to the larder in the utility room and then down again to the root cellar. Choose the attic she would be trapped, but could hide, until Gibbs, or, please god, Nick, got to her. Choose down all the way to the root cellar, and _maybe_ trapped. Had Nick said anything on their orientation class about the root cellar being locked or accessible from the outside porch? Ellie knew at home in Oklahoma the root cellar had been adapted for tornado sheltering with a doorway from the inside the house and a hatch from outside under the kitchen window.

This house was hardly used at the best of times. She couldn’t risk it being locked up.

Sweat gathered under her breasts but she felt ice cold; she had made her decision. She would make her way down to the pantry. It was nearest to the only exit she knew for certain was open; the back kitchen door. Plus, the larder itself was a good place to hide, used mostly for coats, and boots rather than food. She could hide in clutter.

Tiptoeing carefully across the room she gently used her stick to avoid obstacles. Blindly, yet soundlessly prodding the floor until she felt the angular gap and figured out where to access the winding staircase. With trembling hands she brushed away the wall of cobweb filaments that brushed her face. She clung to the central pole of the spiral stairwell placing her bare feet slowly on each step, anticipating a betraying creak, a mouse or worse, whole thing would give way with her weight. She reached the bottom unscathed and wriggled in underneath the hanging musty raincoats and parkers, her ears strained listening for anything.

She jumped as a door slammed shut.

The kitchen door; less than ten feet away from her hidden position.

She peaked out and saw a dark, bulky frame with a brightly lit phone pressed to his ear

‘No, there’s no other torch in the car, I’ll have to just use the light on my phone to fix it. Have you found her yet?’ A male voice spoke in a low guarded voice and walked through to the main part of the house. She slapped her hand over her mouth to stop the gasp escaping.

 _Joe_ , it was Joe and he wasn’t alone.

She discerned the timbre of a woman’s voice answering but too far away to figure out where. But she wasn’t just on his phone. She was in the house

A few minutes passed until, straining, she caught the hissing of urgent whispering. Ellie couldn’t decipher the words, but it seemed Joe was not happy about something and the woman was arguing back with him, barely managing to keep her voice down. Something wasn’t going to plan, maybe Nick had thwarted them somehow…or maybe not finding her was pissing them off. She leaned out of her hiding spot to get some kind of surround sound effect. The intruders had come to some sort of decision, both of them headed upstairs, she recognised the individual creak and cry of each of the steps on the staircase.

Assessing the situation she realised, she was in darkness still so Joe hadn’t managed to fix the electricity. And if they were both upstairs looking for her, she had a tiny window of opportunity to either sneak out the backdoor and wait for Gibbs, or she could look for Nick.

No contest, every time, she would always choose Nick.

Ascertaining she could definitely hear _two_ sets of footsteps upstairs, she crept out of the utility, across the icy, ceramic-tiled kitchen floor, and with her back flush to the wall she negotiated her way to the hall. Her eyes had adapted somewhat and with the dull, intermittent moonlight shining in through the diamond cut glass either side of the hall door, she could just make out the newel pole and bannisters of the staircase. Taking a steadying breath, she walked calmly straight across the hall and hunched down only when she reached her rowing machine under the stairwell.

More whispering upstairs.

Bang!

A gun fired.

‘Bishop, it’s me, I shot Joe, you can come out now!’

_Mendez?_

‘Bishop, he’s dead, come on, Nick told me to come get you’

_This is wrong, way wrong._

Ellie could plainly hear two sets of footsteps creaking the floors upstairs.

_That lying, conniving, underhanded, traitorous bitch!_

Ellie scrunched herself up smaller. She put her hand on the floor to support herself, but it slipped. Something wet and sticky. A familiar metallic smell reached her nose.

Blood

Using her cane, she desperately prodded around until she hit a solid, unmoving mass.

Scampering over she immediately knew it was Nick, stifling a scream she ran her hands over his cold body. He was lying on his back in the dark recess beyond the rower. Her shaking fingers found his throat. He had a pulse, a faint, rapid and weak pulse but it was there. The surface she was kneeling on was slick with his blood, pooled all around him. Running her hands methodically over his muscular frame she found the source, a bubbling hole in the right side of his chest. She slapped her hand over the wound. Thinking quickly, she knew if he was to have any chance of survival, she had to stop the bleeding and stop the slight sucking sound emanating from the small cavity. Pneumothorax. Her encyclopaedic brain dashed through everything she knew from basic first aid to Grey’s Anatomy and MacGyver.

Cling-film plastic wrap. Second drawer. Nick had wrapped her left-over dinner yesterday.

She slipped back into the kitchen, grabbed what she needed and headed back to Nick. A quick check assured her he was still alive, barely. She listened for a moment. The footsteps and creaks seemed further away. The attic maybe. She took her chance. She wrapped the rolled plastic across his chest, over the wound and around his shoulder to anchor it. Using all her strength she pushed the roll under his body to wrap it firmly across his chest, she shushed him gently as a thin moan escaped him. She repeated the wrap around again. Not perfect but something. She prayed it would stop the horrible, wet, sucking air from completely collapsing his lung.

Next, she grabbed her towel that she had left earlier beside the rower. She rolled it up and wedged it against the wound, used the straps of his regrettably empty shoulder holster to hold it in place. Then folding his arm over it and she grabbed him by his sweatpants managed to logroll him into a rough recovery position on his injured side. Hopefully, his own bodyweight would provide the pressure needed to stem the flow of blood.

She wiped her brow of nervous sweat knowing she had smeared herself with Nick’s blood. She noticed her legs and trembling hands were daubed in his blood, black in the pale moonlight. If Nick died her world would be black, a dark abyss devoid of all colour and light. A footstep on the landing dragged her out of her morbid thought.

‘Bishop, stop fucking around, I’m here to help you’

_Sure you are bitch!_

Gabriella was getting impatient.

Ellie heard a slight creek from the attic, so he’s still up there.

Mendez slowly came step by step down the stairs. Ellie positioned herself standing over Nick ready to protect him or die with him in the attempt.

Her ear was just at the lower level of the banisters, Mendez’s feet maybe three steps up when a crazy simple idea came to her. Ellie slipped her cane through the carved posts and braced herself, waiting.

There was a satisfying crunch as Mendez tripped on her broomstick and her face planted smack into the floor. Ellie scrambled over to her crumbled body on the floor and quickly searched around her limp hand, retrieving her side arm.

Now she had a gun.

The happiness was short-lived, Mendez flung out her arm and knocked the gun out of Ellie’s hand. It skittled over uneven floorboards towards the hall door. As a growling Gabrielle started to haul herself up on her arms, Ellie wasted no more time.

Three whacking blows of her cane to the back of her head, Mendez was out cold.

‘Stay the fuck down bitch!’ Ellie spat out in a hiss.

Ellie twirled her broom handle baton-style, embracing her inner Buffy for just one exhilarating moment. Then it was back to business. Gibbs _must_ be nearly here by now. She noticed the moonlight had finally failed. Back to darkness.

Scooting around the hallway, she found the handgun again. She just had to wait now for the team. Exhausted, she slid her back down against the hall door, gun aimed at the corpse-like frame of Mendez and the staircase. If the bitch moved again, she’s shoot her.

Ellie’s eyes hurt; they were streaming tears uncontrollably and a burning sting forced her to scrunch her eyelids tightly shut to try to relieve the pain. She pulled the neck of Nick’s shirt up to try to wipe away some of the tears and crusting but instead caught his scent again and the tears started for a different reason. She was just about to crawl back over to where he lay when, in the darkness, she heard a miniscule creak. For a second, she thought maybe she had imagined it. A nervous tightness gnawed in her gut.

No, she had heard it. She stubbornly stopped trying to clear her eyes, she instead closed them and just listened.

She knew the sounds of this house.

The darkness was not _her_ enemy; it was Joe’s.

Another muffled squeak

She heard the tiny metallic click of a safety being disengaged.

She waited; she knew she had to wait to get a clear shot.

She desperately tried to steady her now erratic breathing. She would only get one chance.

Closer, he was getting closer.

He was almost at the bottom of the stairs. Almost.

She waited for the tell-tale squeal of second bottom step, adjusted her aim for his height and shot three times in quick succession.

He managed to get one round off before he fell but it seared through the front door a foot or more above her head. Flinging herself flat on the floor she crawled commando-style back to Nick. She sheltered his body protectively under her and blindly held her gun aiming out towards anything that made a sound.

Silence.

No… a low wail of a siren.

She hiccupped back a sob and smoothed her hand over Nick’s face.

Red, blue and blinding white lights flooded every window, penetrating even her tightly squeezed, closed eyelids. She did not move. She kept her gun aimed at the heap of bodies in the hall even as the hall door crashed in and Gibbs called out to her.

‘Bishop, Torres?!’he barked in a loud voice.

‘Here boss’ she managed before the strength left her and she collapsed back onto the floor in exhaustion, the gun clattering on the wood, her other hand still on Nick’s face.

Breathing. Nick was breathing.

Epilogue

Every single inch of his body hurt. It hurt to breathe, to swallow, to move, Jesus even his _ass_ hurt! Apparently intra-muscular pain medication injections in his butt was a necessary thing, but _come on_ , could they not have chosen _one_ of the tangles of IV tubes hanging out of him to push that stuff into a vein maybe? Thinking of tubes reminded him of his catheter. Thank Christ that was coming out today, though he was not looking forward to the nurse yanking that out of his boy!

And he was just so goddamn _tired_. He knew he had slept for days but any movement he attempted left him sweaty and panting with breathless fatigue.

It was _killing_ him. Ok, that was an exaggeration. He knew what nearly being killed felt like now and being exhausted and sore was nothing like that.

He was pissed off, yeah that was it. He was totally pissed off.

He felt weak and helpless and he really, _really_ wanted to get out of the goddamn pastel coloured hospital room. Just as he was contemplating the particulars of his great escape plan the door opened and his partner sneaked in.

‘Hey, you’re awake’ she smiled wanly. She looked tired and pale, dark shadows marred her under eyes.

‘Your eyes! No patches! can you see?’

‘Yeah’ she whispered swallowing delicately, ‘don’t worry about me, how are you, are you in pain, can I get you anything? I-we-you had us worried’.

‘I’m fine B, little sore but I’m fine’.

‘I wanted to be here when you woke up earlier, but Gibbs had ordered me to go home’.

‘Ellie, I knew you were here, the past couple of days anyhow, I heard you fighting with Gibbs, well snippets anyway’ he laughed but ended up grabbing his ribs and smothering a cough.

Ellie’s hands were there soothing his shoulder, offering his head support as he tried to sit up.

‘Here, let me help you’ she mumbled as she adjusted his pillows and raised the head of the bed with the handset control. Getting his breathing back in control he glanced at Ellie’s shaking hands as she poured a cup of water from the jug on his locker. 

Something was wrong.

As Ellie gently positioned the straw of the drink towards his lips, he took hold of her hand.

‘Ellie, what’s wrong, has something happened?’

‘What other than you getting shot, loosing a gallon of blood and almost dying?’ she asked incredulously her voice wavering on the hysterical.

‘Yeah, other than that’ he smiled squeezing her hand.

‘Well, that was bad enough Nick’

‘Yeah, but hey I’m fine, what’s bothering you?’

‘Fine?! Nick, you nearly bled out, your lung collapsed, you nearly drowned in your blood…’

‘That’s not what’s bothering you B, I know you too well’. She had turned her back to him and was fussing with the cup and get well soon cards on the locker. She hadn’t once made eye contact with him.

_Oh fuck, she regrets what happened between us._

They both started to talk at the same time

‘It’s all my fault…’

‘We can forget we ever…’

Again, a tumble of overlaid words this time of confusion.

‘What, wait stop Ellie, how is _any_ of _anything_ your fault?’

‘You getting shot, it’s _my_ fault Nick, mine!’

‘Wait roll it back, how in any scenario was my getting shot by psycho-bitch _your_ fault?’

She took a deep breath and looked him squarely in the eye. ‘Ok I’ll ask _one_ question and I’ll prove my point’

‘Shoot’ he grinned at her his best cheeky smile hoping the pun would alleviate some of the stress on her face. She tilted her head and did one of her beautiful Ellie eye rolls. _God, he had missed those!_

‘If I said ‘archangel’ what would you say?’

‘Huh?’

‘Archangel; brainstorm, go’.

‘Ooookay, um, powerful boss angels with swords, um, Raphael, Michael, Gabriel and there’s another...?

‘Uriel’

‘Right yeah Uriel. My abuela would be so proud her attempts to teach me old school catechism paid off. I’m still lost B, you’re going to have to help me out’

‘Joe Michaels, real name Mikhail Josef Urielov and his girlfriend, Gabriella Raphaelle Mendez’. She stressed every syllable and it dawned on him. ‘I was puzzling over him calling his partner ‘archangel’ on the audio tape all evening, before our argument, before we, um…’

‘We’ll talk about _that_ in a minute B’ giving her a look, ‘but first of all, how would you have known Gaby’s middle name _before_ she shot me?’

‘Um, I _may_ have pulled her file...last year, and you know I have a photographic memory and all…’

‘You did a background check on my date?’ he asked in disbelief.

‘Ah, I guess, Nick, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…your privacy…’

‘B, its ok, actually it’s kinda _hot_. And by the way, Boyd’s middle name, completely pathetic, who calls their kid _Reginald_.’ He held his fingers up and did air ‘rabbit-ears’ to accentuate his point.

She looked at him in surprise, flashed quick smile that faded as she continued with her confession.

‘Nick, I was so mad with you, about you and Mendez. I shouldn’t have been. If I hadn’t been sulking, I could have just asked you that question and I would have put it together right then…and she wouldn’t have shot you. It’s _my_ fault’.

‘Ellie’, he pulled her hand until she was forced to sit beside him, her hip wedged against his. ‘Look at me cariño. That is the biggest load of BS I ever heard’ he said sincerely.

Her eyes whipped round to him in shock, ‘Nick!’

‘Nick nothing, I don’t doubt for one minute that that brain of yours could somehow piece together all that crap and solve the case. What I will not accept is you feeling guilty for anything. I got shot Ellie, shit happens, it’s the job. I _will not_ have you feeling you’re in anyway to blame. Not happening’ he finished adamantly.

Tears slipped out of her reddened eyes. She still had a small dressing on her right cheek and there were angry scarlet blotches across her left.

‘No more tears Bishop’ he said wiping his thumb across her cheek.

‘I can’t promise that’ she sniffed ‘it happens all the time’. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a little bottle and throwing her head back she dripped medication into both eyes. Blinking she looked back at him. ‘So, Mendez had been charged, she’s looking at a _looong_ stretch. Admitted to meeting Joe on the Fleet Date app, he was obviously using it to find someone he could manipulate on the inside, but apparently they fell in love and she was feeding him all the intel he needed on NCIS investigations into his arms deals. She sang like a canary once she realised Joe was dead. I say canary, maybe more like a strangled crow, what with the broken nose and teeth and all. Oops, my bad, but silver linings’ she shrugged her shoulders with a mischievous smile.

‘You call that a silver lining?’ He was _really_ liking this Badass Bishop! McGee had told him all about how she had taken the bastards down _and_ saved him singlehandedly, whilst _blind_! His heart swelled again with pride.

‘No, I call saving a fortune on mascara a silver lining’. They both laughed until he was wheezing again.

‘Sorry’, she apologised again, ‘I shouldn’t make you laugh. Just serious stuff from here on, like when do you want to start writing up the report on the case?’ she was teasing, right?

‘Noooo, not paperwork! Jeez B, killjoy much!’ but he smirked at her anyways. ‘So how do you reckon we should document the middle part of that night?’

‘Huh?’

‘You know, let’s say between the blackout and maybe the time when I got shot. Gibbs must have asked’. He watched as the expected flush rose up her neck and bloomed on her cheeks. _God, she’s beautiful!_

‘I, um, said we were asleep’ she answered lamely.

‘And Gibbs didn’t question that?’

‘Well I kinda stressed you were _sleeping_ with me rather than you were sleeping _with_ me’.

‘Subtle B’ he chuckled. ‘You and I both know there’s no way Gibbs would buy that!’

She smiled but it didn’t reach her sombre eyes. His heart cracked with disappointment.

‘If you have regrets about what happened between us Ellie, I’ll understand. I shouldn’t have…you were vulnerable, I should never had said all that -,’

He was cut off by her lips on his, a deep kiss full of desire and promise. She broke away but her two hands cradled his face as she looked at him intently.

‘Nicholas Torres, don’t you _ever_ say that again, ever. No, I do not regret a single moment of our time together the other night. But…’

‘But...?’

‘Gibbs Rule 12’ her body deflated as she sighed. ‘I really love working with you Nick, with the team, we’re like a family. One of us will have to transfer. And I hate that’.

‘B, can we worry about work stuff later? I hear you, it’ll be tough, but it’ll work itself out, I know it will’ he reassured her with another kiss that promised to lead to all kinds of interesting places. He felt ecstatically happy that she wasn’t about to backpedal and reconsider him. ‘So, what are the chances that when the Torres machine repairs and regenerates to zero defects, we can get back to that ‘round two’ you promised me?’ he hit her his best cheeky charming smile and threw in a wink.

‘Well, when you ask me like that, resistance _is_ futile’ she laughed playfully.

A tap on the door and the boss man himself popped his head in the room. Ellie desperately tried to pull her hand away from Nick’s intertwined fingers, but he held on to her.

‘All clear in here or is it all still googly eyes at each other?’

‘What, Gibbs we weren’t ...’ Ellie sputtered

‘Yes boss, we were. Ellie and I were definitely making googly eyes at each other. We’re a thing, an item, together, and just so we’re all clear I plan to make that permanent. We are not breaking up for our jobs, so hit us with it’

‘Hit you with what, Torres?’

‘That Rule 12 stuff’

Gibbs said nothing just gave a cryptic smirk.

‘I have a job for you two’

‘You two, like together?’

‘Yeah’, he said in a duh tone.

He threw a set of keys on the bed. ‘Frank is staying in Hawaii this year, maybe longer. He needs someone to look after his place, house sitters, rent free. Keep the gardens in the summer, general maintenance, maybe paint the decking. He said he has a BBQ that’s not used half enough, thinks it’s a great house for entertaining. It’s only over a half hour drive to the city if you avoid rush hour. Anyhow, I volunteered you two. You’ll both be on sick leave together for a while, so I fixed the boiler, and had the circuit board replaced.’

Nick was switching staring between Gibbs and Ellie. Her mouth was kind of hanging open doing that goldfish thing where she was lost for words but still kept trying to find some.

Nick cleared his throat, ‘Why us, Boss?’

Gibbs looked down at his hands and shook his head. ‘She fooled me too, I trusted Mendez. I was wrong. I think sometimes I’m wrong about other things too. Let’s just say 12 is …shelved’

‘Gibbs, I don’t know what to say’ Ellie finally managed.

‘Nothing to say. See you back at your desks ASAP’

Both he and Ellie chirped out ‘you got it Boss’ mostly to Gibbs’s back, as he promptly left the room.

‘Wow, that was _a lot’_ Ellie finally managed, blowing out her cheeks with a wide-eyed puff.

‘Yeah, a house! _That_ house, erm, will you be ok with that? If being there would make you nervous, bad memories and all, we can tell Gibbs to find someone else?’

‘The house is great, Nick’ she cleared her throat, ‘I was wowing the ‘permanent’ bit you dropped in there to Gibbs’ her eyes nervously flicked to his face, ‘did you mean that?’

‘I told you B, you will only hear the truth from me. Objections?’

‘Nope’, she put a delicious pop on the p.

‘So, I have a big question for you Bishop’

‘Huh, what _now_?’ she scrambled off the bed but he still held her hand.

‘Yeah’, he cleared his throat theatrically, ‘Eleanor Raye Bishop, will you go on a date with me, as my girlfriend?’

‘Of course I will, idiot!’ She laughed gently slapping his arm. ‘Jeez, I thought for a minute there…’

‘Ellie, _when_ I ask you to marry me, it’ll be special, romantic, _passionate_. I have an image in my head…and it doesn’t include a urinary catheter or other tubes hanging out of me’

She burst out laughing and kissed him and pulled away with just a little suck on his lower lip.

‘I love you, Nick’

‘I love you Ellie’ her face lit up as he said the words.

‘Get well soon Torres, that’s an order’, she smiled with a mischievous grin.

‘As you wish’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely comments, I'm glad I shared my first ever story with all you awesome readers!  
> Time to get cracking on my next Ellick tale!
> 
> p.s. Songs roll around in my head when I write, look up the AMAZING Gavin James (Bitter Pill and Always are personal favs). Also there's a really old song, covered by several artists called 'Bewitched, bothered and bewildered'... x


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